The Tail of the Jellicle Cats
by SoulsandSwords
Summary: As he prepares to become the leader of the Jellicle Tribe, a young tomcat must first overcome both his personal fears as well as the monster who threatens to usurp his place and destroy their tranquility.
1. Morning

**Part 1: A Matter of Successions**

* * *

 _Jellicle cats are black and white_  
 _Jellicle cats are rather small_  
 _Jellicle cats are merry and bright_  
 _And pleasant to hear when we caterwaul_

 _Jellicle cats have cheerful faces_  
 _Jellicle cats have moonlit eyes_  
 _We like to practice our airs and graces_  
 _And wait for the Jellicle Moon to rise_

* * *

 **Munkustrap**

"Jellicle cats come out tonight! Jellicle cats come one, come all! The Jellicle Moon is shining bright! Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball... no. No. Needs more feeling." Munkustrap looked over the poem once more. He's known that he'd be reciting it for the tribe for months now. The poem was brief and punctuated, an old Jellicle favorite for announcing the Jellicle ball. Although it would not be his _first_ ball, it would be the first one in his honor, meaning all eyes were going to be on him. Munkustrap had a rich, melodic voice that was well-suited for story-telling; at least his father said so. Since his juvenile years, he was narrating stories to the young kittens, which he had a natural talent for.

He would not only be in charge of announcing the ball and organizing every single detail, but he would also present his father with a rendition of a popular Jellicle tale. But that had already been rehearsed and rehearsed and rehearsed. So much that he left himself with almost no time to practice his invitation announcement. He was eager to do it well; for this would be his father's last ball as the tribe leader... and Munkustrap's last as tribe successor. Old Deuteronomy had revealed that Munkustrap would have this honor when he was just a kitten – he had his entire life to prepare for this moment and he felt far from ready.

He went over the narration once more, with twice the bravado. "Jellicle cats come out tonight! Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball!" Another worry struck him; how did he announce the ball's purpose without making it all about himself? Yes, it _was_ about him, but it was also about his father... yes! His father. That's what he'll go with. The ball was not for a few days, but the cats were already talking about the Jellicle Moon's annual rise. Munkustrap both eagerly awaited and dreaded the occasion.

 _Clack!_

Munkustrap peered over at the discarded clock that good old Skimbleshanks had fixed up. 11:58 P.M. He'd been at this since dusk. No one was around to hear him or judge him, all scattered around the area asleep on whatever throwaway item suited them best. The junkyards of London's West End were a perfect haven for the Jellicle Tribe. No strangers coming in and out, no dogs trying to chase or harass them. Most of all, they were well-hidden from the city's most notorious criminal cat: Macavity. When Munkustrap failed to see the logic in choosing an open area as their home, Old Deuteronomy called them "hidden in plain sight." Macavity thought he was so clever as to check every nook or cranny of the city that seemed obscure, that he'd never consider such a public place with plenty of space. And it was true. Not once in his life did Munkustrap see the criminal cat for himself.

 _Clack!_

Another minute had gone by and Munkustrap hadn't even gone over a single verse. How did time escape him so easily? _Think of Father!_ _No, think of the tribe._ They were going to rely on him sooner than he knew, and he wanted to be there to cater to anyone's needs or wishes. In a way, he already was the sort-of peacekeeper within the tribe, or at least in his own family. As the oldest son of Old Deuteronomy himself, Munkustrap kept an air of calm and dignity about him at all times... even when a certain brother of his stretched his patience to the limit. Said brother would blame it on how little he'd been sleeping as well; and Munkustrap had to admit that he was correct. His late nights of rehearsal were catching up to him, and he could only keep his eyes open for so long. And the Jellicle Ball itself would go on far past midnight.

Munkustrap liked precision. He always set a schedule for himself and followed all of his own, basic rules. Almost nothing he did was spontaneous, but that didn't mean he was boring. He simply _preferred_ routine over the unexpected. He had a morning routine of his own, but sometimes he'd take a break from getting ready for his day to spend some time alone with an soft blanket that he'd found not long ago. He didn't know why he did it, and wished he didn't feel the need, but he _had_ to. Sometimes it made him feel better, sometimes he felt he was just wasting his energy. But after, he always found himself breathing easier; not weighed down by the stress of real life. _Adult_ life.

Sirens blared from across the streets and red lights zipped by, alarming the tabby into hiding. He stepped out when he realized it was just the ambulances going by as they always did. He arched his shoulders and stuck his nose in the air; he could smell smoke. A fire. Must be one of the old factories. He hoped there would be no police disturbances on the night of the ball; the last thing he needed was an unexpected twist on his plans. He lowered his paws onto the chilly gravel and went back up to the clock, which now said 12:02 A.M.

That's enough, he thought. _No more for tonight. I'll get it right tomorrow._

* * *

 **Rum Tum Tugger**

Without opening his eyes, Rum Tum Tugger swung his tail at a chirping bird and it went flying off. It was hardly sunrise. How did those pests get up so early? He can recall how many times he "accidentally" broke the alarm clock that rudely disturbed his sleep every morning. How his brother managed to get up to that clamoring object, he didn't know. Their father was like that too, so it must be an 'old cat thing,' as he'd lovingly tease. He'd been having a nice sleep and wanted it back just for one more minute. But now that he was up, there was no returning to rest, so the Maine Coon stretched his limbs and leapt from the branches.

Early mornings were the best time for hunting anyway, so he'd come to learn. Animals were more relaxed and unsuspecting. In the summer, they would normally sit tight and not want to move because of the heat. Rain and snow slowed them down. Tugger always paid attention to the details of his environment when he was out looking for a meal. He'd been practicing the 'stalk-and-pounce' method since he was a kitten. Any cat who wanted to live past adolescence learned this.

Sometimes, when he wasn't even hungry, he'd scare a mouse into running just so he'd get a good chase in for the day; any excuse to have some sort of adrenaline rush. He called himself a pleasure-seeker, his brother called him a trouble-maker. Both were true! There was nothing he enjoyed like a horrible muddle, so call him whatever you please. He'd often thought of "a curious beast" as the most tantalizing compliment. He sniffed around and realized he was nearing a small rabbit hole. Rabbits were an exciting chase, but only if they were far enough from their silly little hideaway. It wouldn't be hard to dig with his paws and make a biting reach for one, but that's no fun.

Rum Tum Tugger wanted nothing handed to him. One would think that the youngest son of Old Deuteronomy could get whatever he asked for (and he technically could), but that gave him no pride. Nothing was better than finding something for himself. He crossed the green and waited eagerly for one of the rodents to pop its head out; a yawn escaped him in the process. It amazed him how awake he was after he'd been out so late the night before. He very much preferred night over day; more opportunities to catch, more she-cats about the area. And Tugger knew how well-loved he was by them.

His wild mane made him easily recognizable, and the leopard spots on his chest and around his paws stood out from his black fur. All the lady cats knew who he was when they spotted him, and it never surprised him to have a gaggle of females hypnotized by his very presence. It pleased him, in fact. Kittens would screech and squeal with the slightest movement of his pelvis, while the older queens would gaze on. And they're all lucky he hadn't found a mate yet. What's _unlucky_ for them is that he never will.

They made the moves on him first – there was never a challenge in trying to score with anyone; that didn't mean he didn't revel in the limelight when he got the chance. And why shouldn't he? They obviously put him in the spotlight, might as well show off why. Of course, none of this meant he'd never had his way with any of the she-cats before, quite particularly the equally flirtatious and quite vivacious Bombalurina.

He knew she was as much of a tease as he was, but he also knew that she still wanted him. When they both realized that they would just end up playing hard to get with each other for the rest of their nine lives, they came to a compromise. Once every so often, if no one else was around. No name-calls, no I-love-yous. It was especially harder to hold back during mating season when the urges were stronger and the women were much feistier in trying to steal his attention. Bombalurina almost seemed to enjoy making his life a living hell during the season, bragging all about their time together and making the other prepubescent kittens aggressive whenever he was near. Not to mention the change in his _own_ temperament.

Tugger's ears pricked up and a new scent filled the air; a toffee-colored rabbit stuck its head out from the ground and looked around. Rum Tum Tugger stuck low to the ground and made soft, prowling steps toward it. Sometimes he and his brother would get so into their hunting games that their father would call them 'absolutely feral.' In a way, weren't they? The Jellicle cats never lived with humans, and their collars were fashioned by the cats themselves; it was like having a personalized name tag, but without anyone's name dangling anywhere, and much less demeaning.

Out of nowhere, a pigeon swooped down and landed about three feet away from where the cat was stalking. It was like breakfast landed right in front of him. But which one? Why not take the opportunity and chase _both_? Yes. Rabbit for him, and a fine, fat bird for his brother. He'd been worrying about his brother's diet, given all the stress he's had. He needed to eat if he was going to make it through the ball without collapsing. The unsuspecting bird bopped its head around, pecked at the grass, not realizing its demise was inching closer...

He could hear his father's voice right now. _Stealth and patience_. He knew these were important when hunting. Almost anything his father had to say was important, but that didn't mean he was _always_ ready to oblige. He was much less inclined to wait for the right moment to strike than his brother, who could sit still for _minutes_ deliberating his next move. Tugger's philosophy was when you're close enough, jump! Once when they were kittens and it was his brother's turn to show his skills, Rum Tum Tugger couldn't take it anymore after nearly ten minutes of focusing on the same bird and yelled, "JUST KILL IT ALREADY!" And sent the fowl flying. He earned his brother's signature death glare. How Munkustrap hadn't murdered him _yet_ , no one knew.

Rum Tum Tugger moved in scurrying motions and lashed his claws out at the bird; its wings flapped frantically, but Tugger pricked his fangs into its neck, making it still. The rabbit had jumped back into its hole, and with the pigeon still in his clutches, Tugger realized he hadn't thought of how he was going to catch the rabbit _after_ scaring it off. He never bothered to think things through; as Old Deuteronomy called it, he lacked "intuition." Luck and circumstance were all Tugger could rely on, and some days it just wasn't on his side.

But it was only morning and he'd made a nice score to present to his brother. His own appetite could wait. The sun had nearly risen.


	2. Routine

**Munkustrap**

The black and silver tabby was awakened by the sound of an overweight pigeon being dropped beside him. He woke with a full-body twitch and assumed a defensive stance, but when he saw it was only Rum Tum Tugger with their breakfast, his bristled fur receded down flat. Tugger hopped down from the boot of an abandoned car and smirked. "Rise and shine. Early bird catches the worm... er, early cat catches the bird, actually." Munkustrap wiped his eyes, shook the musty feeling off. He sniffed the bird, examining it for any pests or wounds. "Relax, bro. It's good. I caught it fresh for ya."

"There's nothing fresh about wildlife." The tomcat replied dryly. He was still tired – Rum Tum Tugger could tell.

"You were up all night."

"What gave that away?" He proceeded to rip a wing off from the fledgling's body. "Besides, you're one to talk. You're out all night every night." He scanned Rum Tum Tugger; how he managed to roll out of whatever he slept in the night before and look totally relaxed and done-up, he didn't know. He could understand why he was the heartthrob of the tribe, if not the entire neighborhood. Munkustrap couldn't even _feel_ as nonchalant as his brother looked, not with all that had been bothering him. At least he'd have something to keep his stomach settled. He didn't know if it was his lack of sleep or mucked up eating schedule messing with it, or if it was just plain anxiety.

"That's because I'm out _living._ You're hobbled up over here reading the same piece of paper you've been reading for fifteen years." (Cat years, mind you).

Munkustrap wasn't in the mood for his brother's idea of criticism. Not to mention the fact that because it was such a tubby bird, he found himself nibbling his way through layers of fat before he even reached the good stuff. "What'd _you_ have to eat, by the way?" Right on cue, he tasted the bird's liver. Satisfaction at last.

"Nothing yet. You're the one who's gonna need the energy for your party."

"Ball. Not a party."

"What's the difference?"

"One's for crazy cats like you. Another is meant to be taken seriously."

"We hang out, we dance, we sing. They're the same thing."

"You just have to contradict everything I say, don't you?"

"My God. Why are you so— wait, hang on." Rum Tum Tugger looked closely. "You've got a tick on you."

"Hm? Where?"

"Hold on..." Tugger burrowed through Munkustrap's much smaller mane and trapped the fiendish insect between his teeth. He spit it out onto the dirt.

"Thank you." Replied Munkustrap.

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, why are you so uptight?"

"I _have_ to be uptight, otherwise I don't get anything done." He chided. He knew just how to get his little brother to understand. "You know we can't disappoint our father at his last event as the Patriarch." Indeed, it tugged a little on the casanova's heart strings, as well-hidden as they were. Tugger made almost no indication of it, but Munkustrap knew him well enough to know he'd gotten his point across. "You know you have your usual number before we do _Pekes and Pollicles_ , make sure you warm up and—"

"Hey, hey. Take it easy." He interrupted; he had on a smug grin. "You know I got this. I'll have all the queens in the right mood by the time Pop gets back."

"I hope you're not implying the mood I _think_ you mean."

Tugger adjusted his belt, indicating no promises. The silver-spiked band that was hardly a fraction above his crotch was what all the young queens typically had their eyes on. It was like the bait on the fishing hook.

Munkustrap had to give him credit; his brother could _sing_. He was a rockstar since the day he was born... it was only _after_ he realized what sex appeal he had that he became more of a show-off about it. At least that's how Munkustrap remembered it. Either way, he knew his brother wouldn't miss an opportunity to be the center of attention, so at least he was reliable to do his part at any important occasion.

Munkustrap didn't think he had charisma or charm like him, but he had energy when it came to their performances. The only difference was that Munkustrap spent more time fretting over it while Tugger only worried about it _when_ it was happening... and even then, he had no worries.

"They say stress reduces your lifespan." He'd once said. "Takes away at least three lives... and I think you're already down _two_." Munkustrap replied with something equally deadpan, but now he was beginning to agree for once. He wondered how many lives he'd lived and how many more he'd get before it was his turn to go to the heaviside layer permanently. They didn't have much to converse about, and neither had the time to make small talk. Tugger hopped onto an old washing machine and then out of sight, off to whatever activity that struck his interest at the moment.

Munkustrap gnawed at the bones, cleaning his teeth. As he was doing so, he remembered that Alonzo had needed to see him at some point to work out who was going to be on watch this week. Alonzo was his closest friend since kittenhood, and was almost like the squire to his knight. Munkustrap never wanted to ask too much of him, but Alonzo was willing to take on any job that came his way, including nightly patrols around the junkyard to scent out any humans, strange animals, or Macavity. It cycled between him, Plato, and Coricopat, all trusted colleagues.

He'd felt a little guilty that the three had to trade off without break since he'd needed nights off to practice, but they understood. If it wasn't Munkustrap giving them instructions, Alonzo was delivering them for him. Alonzo was loyal, and Munkustrap valued that. He knew Tugger wouldn't _mind_ if he asked him to take just one week off to give his friends a break and stand guard, and being the big cat that he is, no one would probably want to give him any trouble. It's just that a job like that required... discipline. An attention-span, to be specific.

He could focus if he absolutely had to and cared about the task at hand, and Munkustrap knew his brother looked out for the tribe in his own way... but Tugger got bored easily, and if Tugger wasn't interested in what was in front of him, he'd look for something else that he _was_.

The silver and black tom finished picking his teeth and spit out the remains of what was once a pudgy pigeon. He expected to find Alonzo at the junkyard's north gate, where he always was, and was about to head over, but a scent caught his attention and his eyes darted around in full alert. He could partially identify it – a scent that came around once in a while, but wasn't one of his own tribe's. Not a Jellicle Cat's.

His left ear pricked to the side and he turned towards the sound of scattering paws. He recognized her immediately; with her unique calico coat. She knew who he was as well, but neither had actually _met_. Yet the amount of casualty they had when observing each other would make one believe they were good acquaintances. Demeter was a strange cat, but beautiful. She came around every so often just to sniff around and watch, but no one had ever spoken a word to her—some of the Jellicles debated her actual existence! Enigmatic indeed, but very real. Real enough to leave behind tracks and knock over anything that got in her way when she was darting out of sight.

The kittens were especially fascinated by her. With orange and black patches across her cream-colored coat, and bright, yellow-green eyes, they called her a guardian angel. She was always looking over them when she thought they couldn't see her. "She makes sure we rest well at night!" Jemima had boasted. "But then she's gone in the morning." Electra would add. Munkustrap had his suspicions regardless of whatever 'angel' she may be. For all he knew, she could be some sort of protege for Macavity or _any_ rival tribe. She had plenty of time to act on whatever motives she may have, but never did. She could come by and stare as much as she wanted, Munkustrap supposed, but if she got too close, he would intervene. As of this moment, she vanished almost as quickly as she'd appeared.

Demeter looked well-polished and clean; she wore a collar like the Jellicles did, but that just might mean she lived with humans. Not many Jellicles had history with humans. From what Munkustrap knew, only the Bengal twins Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer once lived with people in East London until they got themselves thrown out. The two were quite the kleptomaniacs; Rumpleteazer's collar wasn't even a collar, but a pearl necklace stolen as a 'keepsake' from her old home... and for some reason Old Deuteronomy still gave them a home in the tribe. If his father saw them fit enough for his hospitality, then Munkustrap wouldn't question it, and neither had given him any particular trouble besides pressing his oh-so-fragile nerves.

When the twins heard that he was formally known as an 'Egyptian Mau' by humans, they rushed up inches in front of him and asked, "So you're Egyptian, eh?"

"What's Egypt like?" Poor Munkustrap tried to clarify he'd never actually been anywhere outside of the West End, but neither tabby seemed to understand. Rumpleteazer blinked. "But you were at least _born_ their, right?"

"No. I was born _here_. In this junkyard, in fact."

Mungojerrie peered over his sister's shoulder. "But you've got Egyptian family, dontcha?"

Munkustrap vividly remembered Rum Tum Tugger holding back laughter from a few feet away. Munkustrap sighed. " _No._ " He answered with forced calmness. "Humans like to call certain cats that look like me Egyptian Mau because that's where they were first _found_... or so I believe."

The twins blinked. "So what are the pyramids like?"

Munkustrap slapped his face into his paw. He was lucky he didn't rely on _them_ to keep an eye out for the city's most wanted cat... but he'd felt pitiful enough for them to give them roles in _Pekes and Pollicles_. Their enthusiasm was in the right place, and Old Deuteronomy had told him to give them a chance to play a part in the tribe. In this case, although he'd _never_ say this aloud, it was Rum Tum Tugger whom Munkustrap found himself agreeing with in that situation; they both had an inside joke of calling the Bengal twins _Si_ and _Am_. They were certainly as _loud_ as Siamese cats were.

Every time they strolled by, looking like they were up to something, the two would quietly sing to together: _We are Si-a-mese if you Ple-ease._ Neither brother would admit it, but they thought the other was the funniest cat they'd ever met sometimes. The only problem was that immediately after, they'd both have the song stuck in their heads for twenty minutes.

* * *

 **Mr. Mistoffelees**

It was another sunny, but cold day; it was rare that it wasn't raining and muggy in these parts, so the black-and-white tuxedo kitten would take advantage of the weather and do some exploring. Of course, no one was allowed to call him a kitten anymore. He was a solid sixteen years in cat years. The H-U-M-A-N-S would say he's just about a year. But Mr. Mistoffelees hated H-U-M-A-N-S, so he didn't care what they called him.

There were no P-E-O-P-L-E in sight, but their scents were alive, and Mr. Mistoffelees took caution when slowly exiting the small cardboard box in which he'd taken up residence. He was like the cat-equivalent of a squatter. He took in all the different sounds and smells of the morning, but none were new or exciting to him anymore, but out here, even if it was cold and rainy or cold and _sunny_ , was better than back at the bad place.

He smelled the distinct scents of the Jellicle Tribe's members. The scents of Electra, Etcetera, Jemima, and Victoria. Victoria. Victoria. His favorite scent and favorite word. She was all-white with a pinkish-mauve collar; Mistoffelees had no collar of his own, because he never bothered to make one. He was not like them, but he did not mind. The tribe rarely acknowledged him if he came around, but those who walked his way or caught his scent were polite enough to him to make him reconsider his initial opinions about them. He looked up and saw both the sun and moon – the golden eye and the white eye of the heaviside layer. But the true Jellicle Moon only came once a year, and he did not want to miss it when it appeared. He longed for the night of the ball to arrive so he could see them all dance and watch Victoria do her solos. She was older than the other kittens and more mature; she was learning about her sexuality and need to mate, just as Mistoffelees had a few months ago.

He never danced with the Jellicle Cats, but he danced for himself. He could perform twenty-four or more fouettés en tournant without fail. He called it the Conjuring Turn, because once he was finished, he was sure to pull an electrifying trick for all to see... if anyone actually paid attention to him, that is. He didn't _need_ their attention, but craved it at the same time. All he had were his powers to keep him company; he never had anyone to call 'mother' or 'sister' or 'brother.' He did _once_ , but they were all gone. He was one of eight, and the smallest one of all. The H-U-M-A-N-S called him the R-U-N-T. But this R-U-N-T outlived them all during last year's blizzard, even though he didn't ask to. His powers gave him delight, and sometimes he liked to play little games with the cats and P-E-O-P-L-E from afar.

He would leave doors ajar so the H-U-M-A-N-S would believe someone else had gotten into their house. He'd telekinetically knock over vases or rip curtains. He once tried to shoot lightning at the electric wires, but it caused the entire town to go dark. He clearly didn't think that one through. Any idea that came to his little head, he was sure to chase after it. He wondered what ideas he would have today and what activities would strike him. He'd only just woken up and wasn't even thinking about breakfast or a bath. Too mundane. He hopped onto an AC unit and then onto the railing of a P-E-R-S-O-N's balcony. He could smell the must of the city air, but underneath the faint, familiar scent of a large Maine Coon.

There went by his favorite Jellicle; the largest in size, next to the cat that seemed to have control over all the others. The kittens loved him, and the young queens did too. If only he knew how to be like him without the need of asking him himself. He thought of approaching, but was too reluctant to do so. The Maine Coon knew of Mistoffelees' existence, but didn't bother befriending him since he had no reason to. The Maine Coon had been told to be wary of strange cats, understandably so, as Mistoffelees knew the consequences of disobeying that rule well. He especially kept watch on him when he saw the kittens, including Victoria, ogling at him, paying special attention to his hips, buttocks, and crotch.

The Maine Coon didn't walk. He strutted and swaggered like he had the world in his paws. His large, fluffy mane and spiked collar always gave him away for Mistoffelees, who was never close enough to notice his exotic leopard spots. He hoped that one day Victoria would at least look at him the way she looked at the handsome cat. But that was another idea for another day, because he heard the H-U-M-A-N-S in the apartment behind him get up for their morning tea, so he made haste and hopped down to the pavement.


	3. Expectations

**Munkustrap**

Alonzo was perched on the gate's railing when Munkustrap hopped up and had a seat next to him. Alonzo had just been in the middle of a yawn and scratch, having just awoken himself. He was a black and white Turkish Angora that was younger than Munkustrap, but older than Rum Tum Tugger. He was ready for a nap. "Catch any unusual scents?"

"Nothing except maybe a rat or two. It's Plato's turn this week, isn't it?"

"I'm thinking about taking over since there's only two nights left before the ball."

"I thought you had to practice."

"I do, but I figured I can do that during the day and keep watch at night."

"You're gonna be exhausted."

"That's the life of a leader." Munkustrap replied dryly.

Alonzo snorted. "How's your brother? I saw him already running off this morning."

"He's... his usual."

"Is that good or bad?"

"We never know."

"Funny how for a cat who loves attention, he spends a lot of time outside the junkyard."

The tabby smirked. "I think he just doesn't want to be around for me to give him orders. To be honest, I don't really care as long as he does what he's supposed to when the actual ball comes."

"It's gonna be great." Alonzo assured. "I'm not gonna have to start addressing you as Old Munkustrap and bowing in your presence, am I?"

"Hey, I'm not an old cat _yet_. The bowing part I might like." He paused, "Anyway, go relax. We're both gonna have a lot on our plates in a few hours." Alonzo liked the way Munkustrap thought; he leapt down without another word. Mornings were the easiest parts of their day, and they seemed to end too quickly.

Munkustrap liked to patrol in the mornings; do a perimeter-check, make sure everything was in its place and no one was missing (besides the obvious _one_ who was counted on to be absent if nothing was happening). He especially kept an eye out for the kittens; they were keen to wander and their curiosity was bound to get them in trouble if they didn't pay attention. Little Jemima was the youngest and most adventurous kitten... making it _twice_ as difficult for anyone to keep up with her. She wanted to explore and sniff and paw and taste, and Munkustrap was always jumping in to guide her back to her usual group. Ironically, it was _easier_ to keep her close by when Tugger was around. She was just one of many who adored him and chased behind him whenever he was near.

The older tabby had once said, "You could be leader and not have to do a damn thing. You already have every queen here wrapped around your tail."

And as Munkustrap had expected, Rum Tum Tugger sneered. "That's a little more up _your_ alley, brother. Something so tedious wouldn't work for me."

"It could if you put your mind to it." He grinned.

"Oh, sure. But being a leader is... too long-term. I prefer a life of opportunities, if you will."

Munkustrap arched a brow at the idea. "So you don't make _any_ plans for yourself?"

"What's the point? Thinking about things that might not even happen is boring... and I also wouldn't want to dwell on the past like you do."

"I don't _dwell_. I just use what I _learned_. Something you wouldn't know about." Tugger rolled his eyes and whipped his tail in a moody fashion. "It's so strange how everything's going to change." Munkustrap added in a sudden moment of sincerity. "I like how things are, but I know this is necessary... Dad's not going to be around forever." Neither brother liked that thought. "This is what he's been training me for my whole life." He didn't expect his brother to have any insight; it was just nice to have someone who could really understand what he was feeling to hear him out a every once in a while. Besides himself, Rum Tum Tugger was the only cat to witness all of his lessons and work firsthand and know the stress of it.

"If it means anything," He started to say, "I always thought you'd make a great protector." Munkustrap's ears perked up and his eyes lit with affection. "Just don't expect me to call you 'Your Highness' or anything when the time comes." Tugger quickly threw in—he couldn't let things get _too_ sentimental.

—

 _Jellicle cats come out tonight_

 _Jellicle cats come one come all_

 _The Jellicle Moon is shining bright_

 _Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball_

Munkustrap ran through his lines for the thirtieth time that morning. He was sure his voice was ready to deliver... as for the rest of the announcement:

 _Jellicle cats meet once a year_

 _At the Jellicle Ball where we all rejoice_

 _And the Jellicle leader will soon appear_

Something profound struck him; soon the Jellicle leader cats would be singing about would be _him_. He wasn't sure if he liked that or not. He took a break and went for a drink of water. There was a fountain in a small park not too far from where they resided; humans were usually around there, but they hardly paid any attention to them. Munkustrap was the one who was there most frequently; when he was a juvenile, he liked to sneak out and see what was outside of his usual domicile. He realized that he preferred the comfort of his home, but that didn't mean he should close himself off from everything else. But how Tugger left their homestead so frequently he didn't understand. Just spending a single _hour_ outside of the junkyard was exhausting for Munkustrap.

The only thing that made it worthwhile _was_ the occasional attention from human kittens; they called their kittens "children." The "children" spoke in high voices just as the kittens trilled in high caterwauls, reminding Munkustrap of his own kitten calls. There was only _one_ that Munkustrap had allowed himself to become familiar with just because he was so persistent. A small human boy with yellow fur on his head and blue eyes that called Munkustrap "Silver." He supposed it was better than the demeaning _Here kitty kitty kitty_ he and his companions often received.

He was usually inclined to ignore humans, but this one was relentless. Not even when Munkustrap took shelter up in a tree did he not stop trying to reach him. "Come here! I wanna play with you!" Munkustrap would watch with wide, frightened eyes, but he could never hiss or try to scare the poor boy; he wasn't trying to _hurt_ him. The boy left, and the tabby thought he'd given up, but he reappeared with a handful of oats. He placed them at the base of the tree as if he was leaving some sort of offering... and Munkustrap couldn't resist the smell. He waited until the boy retreated to a safer distance away before he lowered himself back to the gravel and daintily picked at the treats. He was so focused on their delightful taste that he wasn't ready for a soft touch to trail down his back. He jerked his head up and looked sternly behind him, but it was only the boy. When it seemed he wasn't going to try and pick him up or take the food, Munkustrap went back to eating.

Once he was done, however, he found the boy's touches to be quite soothing. Humans seemed to like the feeling of an animal's fur; they called it "petting." He let the boy rub all over his face and chin. "Good kitty." Munkustrap let a soft pur reverberate in his throat. He lied on his side and let the boy scratch him a little longer – he'd never been so amazed by how comfortable he felt with a strange creature. But when Munkustrap returned home that night, much like how a dog knows when its owner has been cheating on them, his father immediately smelled human hands.

"He wasn't dangerous." Munkustrap tried to justify. "I trust what you say about not going near them, but this one didn't show any harm."

Old Deuteronomy sat before him. Even when he was irate, he kept an air of calm. "All right, but you know how humans are. They think we're all pets. You're not a _pet_ , my son." Old Deuteronomy knew Munkustrap was sensible enough to go ahead and finish this lecture, but the latter failed to see the point of it. Yes, they both preferred their reserved lifestyles – as father and son are alike – but what about the other Jellicles? They can't all think like him just because he's Patriarch... right? Then again, his father _did_ know best. He'd been around longer than any other cat he knew. He had his reasons for rules.

—

In the instant that Munkustrap finally got his lyrics down flawlessly, the Bengal twins charged up to him and asked him about their roles. He'd explained it to them a dozen times and more, but he supposed _anything_ that ensured that they understood goes. "You're a Peke." He said to Rumpleteazer, "And you're a Pollicle." To Mungojerrie. "You just follow what I say as I narrate, bark, then leave." Such simple, direct instructions. What was so complex about them?

"Who barks first?"

"You do."

"Then what?"

"...Then _you_ bark after."

"Do we get to stage-rumble?"

" _No_." Munkustrap now dreaded the occasion more than he looked forward to it. "Just follow the directions Alonzo gave you."

Out of nowhere, Tugger's voice joined in, "And then I do my bagpipe solo." He'd been sitting atop a bedstead and was highly amused.

Recovering from the sudden scare his brother had just given him, he pointed at him, "No! Absolutely not! No bagpipes!" Tumblebrutus had constructed a set of bagpipes from a rugby ball and gave it to Rum Tum Tugger... he regretted it ever since.

"Everything's better with bagpipes!" Rumpleteazer giddily exclaimed.

"I hear them in my nightmares." Munkustrap murmured.

"Anyways, Bonnie, Clyde, can you two give us some privacy? I need to talk with my bro about something." The twins completely missed his reference, but they went on their merry way. Munkustrap looked at him quizzically.

"What'd you need?"

"Nothing. I just figured you needed help telling them to get lost."

Munkustrap snorted, relieved. "Thank you, Tugger." Tugger leapt from his spot. "Where've you been today?"

"Out and about."

"Vague answers. My favorite."

"Sheesh." Tugger fiddled with a small tennis ball that had been thrown out. "I was practicing my song. I wanna give a good performance too, you know."

"Good to see you putting in some effort after _last_ year's travesty."

Tugger scowled. "It's not _my_ fault you left a dyslexic cat in charge of writing the lyrics." He shrugged off his brother's irritability and trotted up to his side. "You really need to relax. Pop's gonna be proud no matter what."

"It's not about our dad being proud or even the _ball_. But you already know that."

"Yeah, I do." There was truth in Tugger's words, but he had nothing more to add. He did have a thought, though. "Hey, I already know the answer's gonna be 'no,' but I'm gonna ask for your sake. Why don't you come with me to the alley tonight?" Munkustrap shook his head, just as Tugger expected. "You sure? I know a few single queens that... _might_ give you some attention if you came along." He said with a cocky grin.

"I'm sure with what they've already seen you do, I won't even compare." His brother joked.

"Suit yourself." Tugger shrugged.

"You know, Dad's waiting for us to bring home some mates." Tugger raised a brow. "Like, _real_ mates."

"Eh, that might be for _you_ , but I can't imagine being tied down to one cat... especially if there's no challenge involved." He adjusted his belt as if to make a point.

"It'd make Dad happy to see us _both_ settled and meet his grand-kittens before he passes on." He noticed Tugger giving him a look. " _His_ words, not mine." His brother started to make his way towards the fence. Munkustrap let out a grumpy sigh. "Come on. What'd I say?"

"I'm just wondering," Tugger began casually, "you really wanna have a mate and kittens by the time you're in charge? Is that what you _really_ want?"

Munkustrap replied with utter clarity in his tone, "It's what's _expected_ of me, Tugger." And, without anything else besides a soft _humph_ and a faintly nasty glare, Tugger turned on his tail and strolled out of sight. Munkustrap didn't follow behind him.

Honestly, he had to be so difficult about everything.


	4. Night

**Rum Tum Tugger**

Nights were never long enough for Rum Tum Tugger to accomplish whatever he pleased. So many things to do, so little time to do them all while it was still dark and less people were around to ruin the fun. Always some human chasing them off and telling them to scram. As long as they're not biting anyone or messing up their drapes, they oughta be left alone. Humans didn't seem to care for him, so he didn't care for them right back. Simple and easy.

He liked to wander through expensive subdivisions to look at all the houses and meet the other cats that lived there to see what egos they had. Tsh. And Munkustrap thought _he_ was self-absorbed. Sometimes he would purposefully bait the pretentious pusses into showing him just how ridiculous they were so he could laugh about what they said after. Meanwhile, Rum Tum Tugger would stroll down the sidewalk, tail high in the air, mane wild and styled, with enormous dignity while they all shouted, "Beat it, stray!" "What's that collar made of? Aluminum foil?" "I hear your kind's got fleas!" Unlike them, Tugger knew he didn't rely on money and material items to be proud.

They were all vain and confined to an enclosed space. He was free.

In one of these neighborhoods, there lived an old woman that absolutely despised his existence. The Maine Coon had gotten into a... disagreement with a larger and a tad more unreasonable stray and had to find sanctuary. He hopped into her yard where his pursuer lost him in the darkness, and Tugger found that he quite liked that area. It had patio furniture that was cool and comfortable to sleep in. He only liked to go there to spend nights if it was late and he was too tired to walk all the way back to the tribe. It was when he started visiting during the day that things got interesting.

She had two King Charles Spaniels; about nine-hundred years old and dumb as doornails. Tugger was resting on the patio wall when he was startled awake by the sounds of cacophonous yapping. "Go on, cat! Skat!" She swung a broom at him and Tugger made a run for it... but he wouldn't be intimidated so easily. There was a stubbornness about him that wouldn't allow himself to let others think he was a scaredy cat. He waited a moment and then jumped right back on the wall. He lied on his belly and the dogs went right back to barking. He bat his tail up and down, watched them without a hint of fear.

The woman returned. "Hey! Get! Go on!" She didn't have her 'weapon' on her this time, so Tugger wasn't moving. He baited the dogs with his tail, playing a little game with them. Stupid creatures thought he'd let them catch it. He looked right into the fuming woman's eyes and yawned. If she dared get any closer, he'd scratch. Shows her who she's messing with.

He wasn't a preening, obedient trophy pet meant for show. He was a Jellicle.

It had been months since he went back to those neighborhoods, but they weren't as amusing to visit as they were initially. For now, he liked to go up to human vendors and see how cute he could be to win a free snack. Some were recalcitrant, others were adoring. This didn't always end up the way he'd hoped; once he approached a child who was sitting on a bench, munching on a corndog. He looked up at her and then, _ahem_ , snuggled her leg. "Awww. Hello, there!" Bingo. Women, cats and humans, found it hard to resist him. He pointed his nose at her treat to indicate his intentions. "This is mine, silly! You can't have people food."

 _Oh yeah_? Tugger had a mind to challenge that theory. He rolled onto his back, tilting his head upside down to gaze at her with sunlit eyes. His fluffy mane sprawled out against the brick and poof of a tail curled into a U-shape. Works every time. Now for the final magic touch... " _Mrrrow?"_ ADORABLE! But the girl only knelt down and rubbed his exposed belly. _Okay, um. No. I don't want_ that.

"You're so cute! I wish I could keep you."

 _You and every other girl. Can I have your food now?_ She scratched under his chin. _Good grief. You're almost as bad as Etcetera._

"Who's a good kitty cat?"

 _Hell_ no! He was _no one's_ "kitty cat." He let out an annoyed trill and leapt up without warning. He hightailed out of sight. Thank God no one had been around to see that failure.

—

There wasn't much action tonight. He'd been hoping to see some new faces behind Club 94, but it was the same crowd; they already knew they didn't have a chance, but that didn't mean they weren't going to keep trying. Either way, Tugger reveled in it. A gaggle of queens were staring at his rear and one kit crawled between his knees, much like Etcetera had many times before, and rubbed her head against his crotch. Not a necessarily desired response, but he did appreciate the pleasant tightness that he was beginning to feel, though he wasn't inclined to let anyone know. In a rare moment of undeniable yearning, Tugger found himself feeling rather hot and debated what and where his next move would be. But as if nature had known it would be calling, a distinguishable scent came about and a tail wrapped itself under his chin.

"Well, oh well. If it isn't the curious beast himself." Bombalurina nuzzled his cheek, but Tugger nudged her off with his hip, smirking.

"Shouldn't young kitties be at home safe in their beds? I hear predators are on the hunt tonight."

"Ooh, should I be scared?" She pressed her nose against his, but he pushed her off in an almost-playful manner. The music from inside the club was blaring behind the back door. "So, are we gonna dance, or are you gonna drop me in the dirt?"

"Depends. You gonna whine to everyone about it again?"

"I thought I made it _very_ challenging. What? Am I still not enough?" She exclaimed with a hint of smugness. She knew she'd gotten her wish from him, and that she was the envy of all the other junkyard queens for it, but she still found herself wanting more. Tugger had assumed they'd come to an agreement, but she was hellbent on breaking it. "Name one just _one_ puss that showed you a better time."

"I can name at least _three_." He answered coolly as put his thumbs under his belt. "Don't you wanna branch out a little more? Give yourself more options?" He started closer, "I've met some ladies who are into some _pretty weird stuff_." He said below his breath. She caressed his neck, nuzzled her face against it so much that she could feel the pur deep in his chest; one he couldn't subdue even if he tried.

She changed her tone to one that was more soft, if not pleading. "Tonight?" Tugger knew her determination; Bombalurina didn't care how hard or easy it was to get what she wanted; she just wanted it. Period. And then to brag about it. Tugger already knew he was in the right mood, and he was never one to ignore what his senses needed and what pleasures were right in front of him... but he also wondered if others would start to believe they were exclusive. Bombalurina knew they weren't, sure, but if the tribe thought of them as mates, then all of his other chances would close. A chance to find someone that _didn't_ make the moves on him first and thus kill any interest he might've had...

...But whatever. All he knew was he felt sexy and he needed to do something about it. Rum Tum Tugger tipped his head to the left to suggest they go somewhere more private. Bombalurina eagerly followed him out of the alleyway.

* * *

 **Mr. Mistoffelees**

The P-E-O-P-L-E go quiet at night. He'd learned this months ago when he was still a kitten. They like to make everything dark and sleep. Mistoffelees had no time to sleep; he had too many ideas to contemplate, more magic to learn. Sleep never did him any good anyway – he didn't want to dream about the bad place. Going back there in his sleep was unnecessarily cruel when there was so little time to be awake. That's why he'd make a spell that would give him all his life's rest and he'd never have to sleep again! But sometimes he dreamed of family too – not the one he'd so briefly known, but one he created. He recognized some of them as being Jellicles themselves, and they knew who he was and were glad to see him.

The Maine Coon wasn't prevalent in his dreams, but he was the one he'd call 'brother' every time he saw him. It was disheartening to wake and realize it hadn't been real. Mistoffelees was perched upon his cardboard box house as he fiddled around with some trinkets he'd 'collected' from H-U-M-A-N houses. Silly how they left their windows open and didn't pay any attention to who was coming in and out. But this was good because it gave him resources to new tricks and spells to work on. He was sure that the cats would think that he was crazy with all the tricks he came up with, but when he had so much time alone to practice, could he really be blamed? Crazy just might be his best trait. Others might even call him a genius.

After all, weren't most geniuses crazy?

He caught an odd scent in the air that tore him away from his work. Was it a Jellicle? No... this one was peculiar... Foreign... or maybe he already knew it and just wasn't remembering. He didn't have time for something so trivial, he had a project at paw! He looked at the items he'd retrieved and picked out one. He'd seen H-U-M-A-N-S on the, what they called, T-E-L-L-Y, pull rabbits out of their H-A-T-S. But could they pull kittens out of a H-A-T? Mistoffelees concluded that when the H-U-M-A-N reached inside, their paws went into a different world where the rabbits were casually going about their day only to be suddenly pulled into another dimension where a M-A-G-I-C-I-A-N was performing.

Mr. Mistoffelees himself believed he could learn to manipulate time. Through this hat, he would reach in, back in time to about sixteen cat years ago, and save his seven siblings and mother from the snowstorm. Then he would have a real family. To test, he first lit up the inside with a dose of embers from his paws. The inside lit up as though he'd started a fire. Now he would pull out a colorful blanket. _Presto!_ He had to ensure his magic was its very best before he tried something so compelling.

Somewhere, at this very same moment, he could hear a euphoric wailing. The sounds of ferocious love-making just a few meters away.

* * *

 **Demeter**

Night gave her an easier time when trying to be discreet. Lurking in the darkness was no stress for a cat, much less one with luminous green eyes. She marveled at how the Jellicles all followed the same schedule each and every day, but each cat had a distinguishable, decipherable personality. Demeter pondered the idea of growing up with the same company each and every day; how everyone knew everyone and had no secrets to hide... but if a human could keep a secret hidden from another while they all lived in a single house, then the tribe must be no different.

It boggled her how it was 'well-known' that cats hated humans. Demeter loved her humans – but even when she was living with them was she keen to explore. Those days were gone. Now it was just endless adventuring. Could a cat really feel condemned by such a thing? This one could... at least for a while. Now she was far too enamored by this group to feel weary. Each day would bring something new to learn about them, something insightful to observe. She knew that some of them would be equally interested in watching _her_ daily routines, but she didn't have an organized route as the Jellicles did. She felt compelled to come closer, but couldn't bear the thought almost as strongly.

She did not want to interrupt their peace.

Demeter was aware that her presence already caused a stir with the little ones; they looked for her every night when their caretakers were trying to send them to bed. "We might miss our angel!" The youngest would cry, and Demeter couldn't help but feel a soft grin warm her face. If the elderly folk weren't watching, Demeter would creep over to the fence and let the kits see her face. They would gape and stare in awe. Just to see her was enough for them – it made them feel safer when curling up to each other to sleep.

Despite the adoration, it wasn't the kittens Demeter was most eager to watch. It was the tall, silver-black tom that she was allured by. He'd spotted her the most of all of them; it seemed to be his job to keep track of what prowlers might be lurking... and he was fairly good at it, as she'd come to learn. He was always hard at work, but also nurturing others and keeping tabs on their well-beings. Demeter liked that. His songs were also spellbinding. His soft, tenor voice helped him stand out from the others when they were singing in a choir. From far away, Demeter liked to sing with them sometimes, pretending to be one of them.

She could tell something big was to come in the next day or two, because the silver tabby had been running around non-stop, never taking a moment to rest. Tonight, she came by just to hear him rehearse. She had no need to see him. He was telling a story in this song; he narrated with vigor, pathos, bravado, so much that Demeter was getting worked up by how invested she was in its plot. That's how she realized he was a true storyteller.

The calico was surprised that he hadn't scented her yet... or he was so accustomed to her being around that he chose to ignore her at this point. It had not been very long since she first came across the tribe, but once she'd found it, she just _couldn't_ stray away from it. She felt if she got too far from the junkyard in which they resided, she'd want to run right back. Something pulled her in, and now her ankle was tied to an invisible string that tugged whenever the _idea_ of leaving came to mind. Maybe it was the idea of family that she was so fond of. How she felt the warmth and affection even from afar, despite she was not a part of it.

She had yet to discover what enticed her so, but she also didn't want to. She didn't mind being an outsider to them, so long as they never shunned her out of their territory.


	5. Arrival

**Munkustrap**

The alarm rattled on the ground. Munkustrap sighed into the dusty pillow on which he'd been sleeping and tapped the stopper with his tail. Tonight was the night that would both relinquish him of his anxieties, but also be the beginning of new duties to worry about. The air felt wet; there may be a storm on its way. He hoped it would pass before the ball began. If not, then they'd dance in the rain for all he cared. It was happening tonight, and everyone must begin preparations _now_. Tugger _better_ be home; and if he's not, then he better be on his damn way.

Before he could begin his morning tasks, Munkustrap knew he'd need to get something out of the way first. He brought out the blanket from its well-hidden spot and retreated to a secluded region. He bundled up a section against his privates, put deep pressure against them. No one could know about his occasional 'activities,' not even if it was perfectly natural. It was uncouth to let anyone even _suspect_ that their leader got such impulses.

Munkustrap had courted, but never mated... his brother had done just the complete opposite since puberty struck him like a boulder. It was also clear whose side puberty was on when both kittens came of age. Rum Tum Tugger went from the teeniest creature Munkustrap had ever lived with to a solid, stocky behemoth of a cat. His body took a more rectangular-shape, his shoulders broadened, and his muscular build was well-hidden by his thick tufts of fur. All of the sudden, he was the hottest tom in the West End. Not to mention that his crotch developed a life of its own.

Play-fights were no longer a fair game between the two brothers. The normally victorious, but merciful Munkustrap was now near the cusp of suffocation every time his big little brother pinned him against the ground. Munkustrap assumed it was easy payback for refusing to let Tugger win just once. Meanwhile, Munkustrap was slender with a long torso and legs. His fur was shorter than both his father and brother's. The only upside to his body-type in comparison to Tugger's was that he was flexible and swift. While not having as much endurance as him, Munkustrap made up for it in speed and agility. Old Deuteronomy said that Tugger might be his leopard, spots and all, but Munkustrap was his cheetah. He reminded him that cheetahs were also small in size, but one of the quickest and most clever felines that ever lived – it certainly helped the little kit's confidence.

He'd been so easy to reassure as a kitten; he had no idea what happened once he aged... perhaps it was the birth of rationality and reason that made life so hectic. It was what humans called 'adulthood.' Cats reached adulthood far more quickly than humans. There was a reason why they perceived themselves as the more intelligent species.

Coming to a breathless halt, Munkustrap heard the clinking of the chain-linked fence that bordered the junkyard and he sputtered, embarrassed even though no one is in sight. He dropped the blanket and stowed it away; he would have to come back and clean it later. The cause of that noise had been Rum Tum Tugger returning home. Although a little annoyed he hadn't gotten to finish the job, Munkustrap was relieved to see him. "Oh, good! You're home."

"Yeah, yeah. I figured you'd need me to keep you from scratching somebody's eyes out."

"I'm hoping you won't _have_ to."

"I saw Alonzo and Plato setting everything up on the way in. What'd you need me to do?"

"Just to stay low until it's time for your number, and to not cause any trouble."

"Dear brother," He started with a hint of sarcasm, "when have _I_ ever caused you any trouble?" Munkustrap glared at him and Tugger sniggered.

"I'm serious."

"All _right._ I promise, no trouble from me."

"Thank you."

"It's Si and Am you're gonna have to worry about." Tugger added with a slight grin. Munkustrap had nearly forgotten who he'd been potentially _forced_ to cast in their play. Okay, stop. Relax. Father's going to love it no matter what, he assured himself. _The Pekes and The Pollicles_ was his favorite! He didn't care how it was told... but Munkustrap would tell it well. No, _flawlessly!_

—

It was an hour before midnight that everything was set up; the cats had already been presented the formal invitation and all were gathered in the center of the region for the solo numbers to begin. Munkustrap had gratefully made it through the opening act without falter, and what everyone else had in store had been marvelous! What he looked forward to the most was getting to see what each cat came up with for their presentation that evening; no one was allowed to peek in on each other while they were rehearsing, so it was always a surprise.

It was customary that the Jellicles perform for each other before the arrival of the Patriarch; he only heard what he specifically requested, and nothing else. Rum Tum Tugger turned his spiked collar around since he'd probably be dancing closely with the ladies tonight. Etcetera had already clung onto his leg twice and the first time he shook her off. The second time, he gave her a peck on the forehead and she fainted, giving him ample time to escape. He wasn't surprised, not while he'd been flaunting what he's got. What better time was there to show off than the Jellicle Ball... oh wait, when it was time to perform _his_ number, of course! Munkustrap expected nothing less from his big little brother.

And when it was Rum Tum Tugger's time... it was _his_ time. No one else better interrupt... unless it was one of the kittens or ladies screaming in joy. Munkustrap had to give him credit; he knew how to keep an audience, and his charisma was nothing to scoff at either. His voice was different than Munkustrap's; more powerful. His pipes were _made_ for him to be a rockstar; it all began when he first heard David Bowie from the destroyed car's radio. His whole world changed after that, and perhaps it benefitted _both_ brothers in some way. It gave them distinctive qualities besides being Old Deuteronomy's sons.

The fur collar of his black jacket looked like part of his mane, and only added to the 'frontman' essence he was going for. And for his part, it worked. Bombalurina had been persistent in trying to be his main dance partner, but he bumped her, dropped her, and outright ignored her efforts. If he made anything clear, it was that he and the queen of broken hearts were NOT an item... but if she was the queen of breaking hearts, then what was _he_? King of stolen hearts? Possibly.

 _We're gonna rock this town_  
 _Rock it inside out_  
 _We're gonna rock this town_  
 _Make'em scream and shout_

Of course Tugger went with the Stray Cats as this year's performance, given he'd been listening to them since last year's fiasco. He learned better that way – he had trouble reading and writing down lyrics, so it was easier if he sang along to get a hold of the words. Munkustrap was actually impressed by how quickly Tugger could learn by ear, whereas he _needed_ a visual medium to learn something. Once the song had ended, it would be Jennyanydots' turn next. Munkustrap adored her in his kitten years—she acted somewhat like a grandma to him and Tugger. What he loved most about her was that she taught him the values of hard work and tolerance.

Jennyanydots was an industrious cat. She might be a tad older than most of the queens in the tribe, but she was noble and kind-hearted. Her diligence was endless and her job was never finished. She was up all night teaching mice manners and how to stitch and knit. As for cockroaches, she showed Munkustrap that all they needed was some employment to be taught ethics. She transformed them from disorderly louts into helpful boy scouts. "It's about patience, you see. It'll get you through any troubling task." She'd told him in his early years.

But before her performance could start, as she was readying herself, Bombalurina might've stirred Tugger a bit. Still fuming from being dropped, she whispered to him, "I'll have to start telling the others that Rum Tum Tugger is the _quickest_ cat." That would be her last mistake. Without any warning, Tugger returned to the center, and the kittens squealed and huddled closer.

Without any signs of discontent, he sneered and said, "This one goes out to Bombalurina, whom this number was named after." Bombalurina looked intrigued and baffled at the same time. Munkustrap couldn't believe the disrespect (well, actually, he could)! But Tugger would have the last laugh.

 _I'm up on the eleventh floor and I'm watching the cruisers below_  
 _He's down on the street and he's trying hard to pull sister Flo_  
 _Oh, my heart's in the basement, my weekend's at an all-time low_  
 _'Cause she's hoping to score, so I can't see her letting him go_  
 _Walk out of her heart, walk out of her mind, oh not her_

 _She's so swishy in her satin and tat_  
 _In her frock coat and bipperty-bopperty hat_  
 _Oh God, I could do better than that!_

He proceeded onto the next verse, and once Bombalurina recognized the title, she stormed off in a huff. Now in high spirits, Tugger propelled all his energy into the performance, and most of the cats were actually possessed by the charisma and dancing along. But once the song was over, all motion stopped, and even Tugger looked astonished at something. He pointed and all turned around. Munkustrap was the last to see.

Old Deuteronomy had arrived. Significantly larger than any other cat in the tribe, even surpassing Rum Tum Tugger himself. His long fur draped behind and around him like a cape and his face was one of regal dignity. He had returned from his week-long exhibition of the city, since he only got to leave so often at his old age. All the kittens happily rushed over to hug him, and the other cats approached and bowed, graciously reaching their paws out to him. He was approaching the stage where his two sons awaited. Despite Tugger's discourtesy, Old Deuteronomy was pleased to see them both.

"Making sure you still cause trouble while I'm away?" He said lovingly and caressed Tugger's chin. He was the only cat alive who could do so without Tugger's protest. In fact, the Maine Coon chortled and tenderly took his paw in his. Old Deuteronomy then looked on at his first pride and joy, who could only smile with the utmost love a son could show his father. They gently rubbed paws. His sons, one on each side of him, sat him down on a truck tire.

And now the moment Munkustrap had been dreading was about to occur. But his worrying was over; with his father safe at home, his kind face granted him a sense of security, and he was more enthused than ever. Old Deuteronomy could only stare in awe as his two sons moved about – he was long past their youthful ages and remembered the days when he had the energy they harbored presently. He was grateful he had such healthy sons, and a healthy tribe!

Munkustrap ordered all the cats, including Tugger, to get in their places. And now, the show began! Munkustrap sang the opening narration... the easiest part since there was no one else to screw it up. It'd be blasphemous for a Jellicle not to know this story; it was a popular legend! It was the tale of how a rivalry between two dog packs, the Pekes and the Pollicles, was averted by the The Great Rumpus Cat. A classic!

Everything went smoothly until Rumpleteazer and Mungojerrie hopped out, in costume and all. When he gave them their cues to bark, Mungojerrie messed his up, confusing poor Rumpleteazer. But they were trying, Munkustrap reminded himself, and it was only one mistake. He tried to help them through their next verse, but it changed nothing. Whatever; he'd focus on his narrating.

 _Now the Peke, although people may say what they please,_  
 _Is no British dog, but a winsome Chinese!_  
 _And so all the Pekes, when they heard the uproar,_  
 _Some came to the window, some came to the door!_  
 _And together they started to grumble and wheeze_  
 _In their huffery-snuffery, winsome Chinese_  
 _But a terrible din is what Pollicles like!_  
 _For your Pollicle dog, is a dour Yorkshire tyke!_

Munkustrap cued the male cats; they nearly ran him over twice during their march around the center; Old Deuteronomy was quite amused, but maintained his neutral disposition to the best of his ability. Munkustrap had to hold the leading cat to halt the marching. No one wanted to listen, it seemed. Then his worst fear was about to come to life. He spotted Tugger in the corner, holding his bagpipes. Munkustrap gave him a silent warning. _Don't. You. Dare._

And the Maine Coon played, trotting merrily around the actors as some fell over, unable to see in their masks made of shoe boxes. At least it ended quickly. Munkustrap would forgive him for now, but anyone with eyes and ears could see and hear his growing exasperation with them all. It was almost over; he could do this without the need of murder.

 _When these bold heros together assembled_  
 _The traffic all stopped_  
 _And the Underground trembled_  
 _And some of the neighbors were so much afraid_  
 _That they started to ring up the Fire Brigade_  
 _When suddenly up from a small basement flat_  
 _Why who should stalk out but the Great Rumpus Cat!_

Then Admetus, in his Rumpus Cat costume, entered in the entirely wrong direction and Munkustrap dragged him into position. Finally the last verse. When he was nearly finished and ready for their big finale, Rum Tum Tugger came out from atop an oven and played the bagpipes once more. Always having to upstage everyone. When he was through, he looked around eagerly, waiting for an applause... instead, the cats sang the closing lines. Tugger shrugged and walked off.

 _All hail and all bow to the Great Rumpus Cat!_

At last. Munkustrap could breathe again... it might not have gone as well as he'd hoped, but it could've been much worse.


	6. Music

**Mr. Mistoffelees**

The tribe was having another annual celebration. He could hear them playing M-U-S-I-C. The bad place had none of that; it was only the rattling of chain leashes and the maddening sounds of barking and scratching, doors opening and shutting. H-U-M-A-N-S liked M-U-S-I-C, which made Mistoffelees conflicted about the idea, because cats inherently enjoyed it too. He himself was vulnerable to it.

It happened not long after he escaped from the bad place and took refuge in this very alley. The P-E-O-P-L-E who lived in the apartments above him immediately noticed his presence and would try and make contact with him, one even calling a R-A-N-G-E-R. Mistoffelees had known how to disappear and reappear at will, and left them searching in the dark for hours. When they finally stopped responding to the calls, some of the tenants began trying to shoo him off themselves, but finally gave up when they realized he wasn't harming anybody by just living there. Mistoffelees had made a deal with himself – he would only ever strike if one of them attacked first. But he wouldn't even let them get close enough for him to have to consider it.

If anyone, resident or passerby, tried to reach their hands out to him, Mistoffelees would back into his box, hair bristled, spine and tail high in the air, and a low, guttural growl in his throat. His snarl sounded more like a H-U-M-A-N infant's babbling, and he would _HISSSSS_ and _MRRRRAAHHH_ if they still dared to approach. Soon he was known through the entire apartment complex; others were warned that he was "feral" and they were "trying to get him taken care of." Mr. Mistoffelees was quite happy with this outcome; there were no more P-E-O-P-L-E bothering him... at least not until a new tenant moved in. She had a room on the lower level; no children or husband, no one to talk to... but then she noticed the handsome tuxedo cat that was alone too.

She was no exception and had been given the warning, and Mistoffelees had no desire to cozy up to her just because she was nearby; but curiosity would get the most of them. When she was done putting all of the furniture in her apartment and setting up flower vases to put on the windowsill, she saw Mistoffelees giving himself a bath on top of his box and got an idea. She was making some boiled eggs and thought she could spare just one... When they were finished cooling on the plate, she opened the window and tapped the shell with a spoon.

Mistoffelees' ear pricked right up and he paused midway through his cleaning, tongue still sticking out. He watched her peel the shell and she presented it to him in the palm of her hand, as though it were some holy object. Was this a trick? Mistoffelees backed into the wall and stared with suspicious eyes. She preferred boiled eggs because she was older and her teeth couldn't handle anything tough or crunchy; much unlike a cat's fangs that were meant to tear through flesh and innards. She lowered the egg onto the ledge and Mistoffelees watched with utter intensity.

 _Mrrooowwww..._ He expected her to wait for him to respond so she could catch him, but she instead closed the window and turned the light off. And still, he glared at it, watched it, checked it out from all angles. It smelled quite flavorful; the most interesting scent he'd come across since he'd grown used to the city's ever-changing aroma. Mr. Mistoffelees leapt onto the ledge and pawed at the egg. It toppled over to its side and he took a small bite; it was chewy and mushy. He started to lick and munch more and more, he forgot he could even _get s_ o hungry. He bit off the soft, white outer-later and licked at the flavory inside; he didn't feel queasy or sickly... was this _not_ a trick? He hadn't seen the H-U-M-A-N since she left to the other room. He savored the egg's insides and left nothing but a few yellow crumbs on the windowsill.

That night was the first in weeks that he went to bed with a full stomach. The morning after was when something even more phenomenal happened. He woke up to an indescribable harmony. A strange, somewhat _shriek_ of a noise, but one that was pleasant and jubilant. He saw it was coming from a strange device on the elderly woman's window. It was rotating a circular object where the sounds seemed to be coming from. Was it in the air? Could he touch it? Mistoffelees lightly stepped closer to the noise; it grew faster, louder, then back into a rhythmic sway. Suddenly the woman appeared; Mistoffelees retreated into his box as far back as he could go. She instead smiled at him and sat down in her chair. Feeling it was safe just to look, Mistoffelees crept back out and sat under the window ledge. She picked up a square case in which from where he sat, the cat could read, _VIVALDI: THE FOUR SEASONS._

The H-U-M-A-N spoke, "A lover of music too, are we?" Mistoffelees looked around; there were no other P-E-O-P-L-E. Was she addressing _him_? "Spring's my favorite of his works... we could use something more cheerful in times like these." She went back to her crocheting and Mistoffelees put his paws on the ledge; getting a better look at the mechanism that made M-U-S-I-C. His ears stood up straight, letting the notes swim right through them, his tail curled in the air, mirroring his widening awe. And suddenly, knocking both the kitten and the woman back on their heels, the record stopped. Mistoffelees made a distressed grumble. Spring's first movement had ended. "Don't worry, love. Give it a moment." He did, and the music came to life once more in spring's second movement. Mistoffelees let out a happy trill, but when he turned to see the woman's hand reaching for his head, all memories of the bad place engulfed him and he darted away. She immediately recoiled.

He listened to the music from the safe distance of his box, but saw the woman looking remorseful. "We've both had our share of hardships, I can tell." She said almost to herself and stitched alone by the window. Mr. Mistoffelees felt his heart still thwacking against his chest, but he began to wonder if he'd mistaken her intentions. Feeling nearly as sorry as she was, he crept cautiously back over and hopped onto the windowsill. He got a good look at the inside of her apartment; he saw a picture of her with another H-U-M-A-N that looked her age, but it was a M-A-N. Where was this M-A-N? Did he not live here? His head cocked left and right, noting the minimal effort she'd taken in decorating her abode. He could smell artificially scented flowers that were sitting on the mantel, and a number of different tea bags stored in the pantry.

Spring's third movement began, and Mistoffelees looked inquisitively at the record. He pawed at the object that seemed to keep it steady, but then it made a loud screeching sound and the melody stopped. His fur stood on end and he sprung back onto the ground. The woman was chuckling to herself. He liked Vivaldi, but he didn't like... whatever _that_ was! "Curious, are you?" She laughed and dropped the needle back on the record. The sweet symphony reappeared, as did the air of calm and harmony to Mistoffelees. That was the first time Mistoffelees ever heard M-U-S-I-C.

—

It became regular for the woman to play her records by the window and leave small treats out for the black-and-white cat. Through her, Mistoffelees had discovered Mozart, Chopin, Tchaikovsky, Bach, and the different kinds of music; joyful, morose, energetic, soothing. Sometimes she even left it on while she went out to run errands so her four-legged friend wouldn't feel lonely, and Mr. Mistoffelees found himself not wanting her to think he'd forgotten about her and visiting fairly often. But she was still a H-U-M-A-N, and he was wary of what other motives she could have in store. She left her window open, meaning he was invited inside, but that wouldn't be happening. In a way, he served as her silent therapist; she would carry on both sides of the conversation as if he were a P-E-R-S-O-N as well. "It gets so lonely since Harold passed on... I know I'll be with him soon, but I've still got some living to do! I have three grandkids!" Mr. Mistoffelees had no clue what she was talking about, but he would give her the company she longed for. "Are you all alone too, I wonder?" Puzzled, he lowered his ears. He sat on the ledge, still hesitant to get any closer. He pondered her inquiry, recognizing that strange word: alone.

He had been found 'alone' when he was just two weeks old. Without his family. Was that what that word meant? If so, then yes, he was _alone_ , but he was so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he never saw himself as lacking anything... and then he discovered the Jellicle Tribe. That was when he understood the meaning of the word 'family' after months of hearing it... he understood what 'longing' for something felt like. Longing, yearning, wanting, needing. All of those words were how he felt about the tribe. They too loved music, and because he knew about it and its different genres, Mistoffelees was convinced that he would fit right in... and yet he never actually did anything about it.

They filled the gap he'd been missing since the woman, for a reason Mistoffelees couldn't comprehend, stopped visiting him and playing music for him. New people came to the apartment and removed her belongings, and not even her kindness could change how he felt about H-U-M-A-N-S, but he missed her records. He missed Vivaldi. The cats didn't seem to know Vivaldi, and Mistoffelees could easily introduce them, but it was easier to keep his distance. They'd just finish presenting a play of some sort to their leader; a cat larger than even the Maine Coon, but that could just be his fluffy fur adding to his size.

He watched Victoria. She stretched, twisted, curved; her beautiful white fur glistened in the moonlight; Mistoffelees wanted just a touch to see how soft she was... He wanted to daydream about it some more, but then the odd scent he'd noticed the night before had returned, and it was much more overwhelming. It was closer. Mistoffelees couldn't ignore it this time and he jumped down from the rooftop where he'd been watching the ball onto the fire escape. He trotted down the steps until he made it to ground-level where the smell was most prevalent. Another cat... strange. He thought he'd familiarized himself with _all_ the Jellicle's scents by now. Had a new one just arrived to town? Something skittered over his paw and he twitched. A rat. Another one followed behind it. He wasn't all that hungry, but Mistoffelees felt compelled to follow them... he felt there was something _organized_ about where they were heading. He noticed more rats heading in a similar direction – something was attracting them.

He found them all gathered near a storm drain and he watched from behind the corner of a closed shop. He hopped onto the fire escape to get a better view. He watched them all scurry as a large ginger cat pulled himself out of the sewer and onto the street. He didn't make a jump for them and they even seemed to gather around him. The cat was tall and thin, with sunken eyes, a domed head, a coat that was muddy and drenched from the sewer's filth. This was far too peculiar to ignore and Mistoffelees kept watch. He couldn't hear what the cat was whispering to the rats, but he had an unpleasant feeling in his stomach when he watched him. Something about his mannerisms were... devious. And for a mysterious cat to have arrived in the area on the night of the ball... something had to be happening, and Mistoffelees, whether he was right or wrong, had to warn the tribe.

* * *

 **Munkustrap**

Besides the rather unfavorable results of the play, the Jellicle Ball was passing along quite pleasantly. With Old Deuteronomy home, all of the cats were determined to enjoy themselves and got along with one another more than ever. Such harmony pleased Munkustrap and made his job much easier. Tugger was sitting with their father, both conversing about something he couldn't hear. It was nice to see them spending time together; it was rare that the two got to do so, so Munkustrap left them alone.

The kittens were playing together, testing their claws and teeth on each other, hardly able to even leave a dent in each other's fur. Munkustrap almost envied their innocence, but his time to be a kitten had passed. He should be happy that they were living theirs. He noticed Victoria was distancing herself more from the group and spending more time alone. It was only natural—she was maturing and it was time she started to search for her identity and dance on her own... it wouldn't be long before _her_ innocence was gone as well. Munkustrap had heard the way Plato talked about her, how he hoped they would mate when she came of age, but he was firmly reminded that it had to be her choice as well. As for the silver tom himself, Munkustrap had no opinion on any of the queens... in all honesty, he hadn't spent much time thinking about _who_ he'd mate; he just knew it would have to happen within the next few weeks, and he _just might_ need the advice of his brother beforehand.

He knew what was expected of him, and he was ready to try and learn to love whomever he was paired with for the sake of his father. Besides, he was sure that his father and at least _one_ of his nine wives didn't necessarily "love" each other at first, but they did what had to be done.

...He caught a whiff of something that threw him off; that's how unsettling it was. Was it Demeter? No. Was it just something in the junkyard or the smell of the early-morning delivery trucks? He couldn't put his paw on it, so he found Alonzo and enquired about it. Alonzo sensed it too, but neither could figure out the source. "I don't want to alarm anyone, but keep check on the perimeters. Tugger and I will get on top of it." Alonzo nodded and obeyed his instructions. Munkustrap hated to pull his brother and father apart when they were bonding, but this could be urgent.

"What's up?" He asked once they were alone.

"Alonzo and I are scenting something off near the gates... I want you to help us do a border check."

Tugger winced, "What do you need _me_ for?"

"If there's a threat, you can scare them off more easily."

"How?"

"You're _big?_ " He reminded as if Tugger didn't already know. He oh-so-suavely adjusted his belt.

"Well, I guess I _could_ find a use for these muscles of mine."

He had to make _everything_ about himself somehow. Good God. "Just get to it, _tubby_." Munkustrap said to knock his ego down a peg. Unfortunately for him, Tugger took nothing he said personally. They split ways. When Munkustrap headed to the north gate, he saw Alonzo out on the east side, looking to and fro. Plato and Coricopat were on the west. The smell wasn't any stronger where he was now standing, but it was still alive. He noticed more rats than usual were crawling along the sidewalk. They usually never came out unless it was raining and they were taking shelter. He followed their trail from behind the fence.

* * *

 **Rum Tum Tugger**

He balanced along the rim of the gate and peered around every corner he saw. So far nothing looked to be out of sorts. He wasn't very worried – as a matter of fact, he singing a little tune to himself while he "patrolled." He didn't smell anything out of the ordinary either. It was an overcast night, so he didn't have the moon's light to help see anything.

Then a streetlamp started flickering.

Just one, single streetlamp on the entire road down by the intersection. Absolutely no explanation. _Weird_ , he thought, but since he was already heading over there, Tugger jumped down the other side and strutted over. It stopped and stayed alight once he was close, and Tugger leered around to see if something might've been causing it. He didn't know what could possibly cause the glitch besides a dying bulb, but it felt so unnatural – the way it flickered until he stood beside it. He saw movement from the corner of his eye, a large figure of a cat with an unkempt coat; over a dozen rats swarming its side. The shadow vanished and the rats began to split into sections and make their way towards the junkyard.

Rum Tum Tugger was now fully alert. _"Shit."_ He dashed back to the abode, unaware that a black-and-white cat was following from afar.


	7. Abduction

**Munkustrap**

Landing beside him suddenly, Tugger hopped onto the fence where Munkustrap was watching the rats. "Bro, something's up."

"Yes, _I've noticed_." He snapped back, not in the mood for the obvious.

"I mean—those rats, they're taking orders. I saw another cat out on the streets, just before he ran off." Munkustrap had a gut feeling of whom he might be talking about, but he _prayed_ that they were both mistaken. The look in his eyes told his brother he was already panicking. "Hey, just stay calm. No use getting the entire tribe in a panic."

The tribe! "I know. Listen, get Alonzo and Plato and tell them to start rounding everyone up, get them safe." In serious matters like these, Tugger could efficiently take orders. In fact, he had concerns of his own.

"What about Pop?"

"I'll take care of Dad. Go, _hurry!_ " Tugger leapt down and dashed into the darkness. Munkustrap's heart was already racing, but his brother was (surprisingly) right. No use getting worked up. This is what leaders did. Perhaps it was fate that tonight they have an emergency; almost like a sort of trial. But Munkustrap didn't care about that kind of symbolism – reality was his first concern. He made haste to find Old Deuteronomy, who was just noticing that his sons had been gone quite a while.

"Is everything all right?" He asked, concerned.

"I need you to get somewhere safe." He instructed, but Old Deuteronomy looked skeptical.

"What's going on?"

"We're not sure, but Tugger and the boys are getting everyone out of the open and I need to get _you_ out of sight too." He reached his paw out to him, and Old Deuteronomy was never one to distrust his son. As they raced across the region, Munkustrap noticed Tugger baiting the kittens to hide them in a cylinder; Etcetera was being dragged on his leg and he had to physically shake her off.

"C'mon, Etcetera... Not... Now!" The ladykiller wiggled her off and she grouped inside with her friends. Munkustrap knew his brother had it under control; not even _his_ hubris could overshadow what was actually important. Alonzo had everyone else gather in various spots for them to lay low; inside the broken oven, the boot of the car, even a mattress... but what about Old Deuteronomy?

Munkustrap tried to huddle his gigantesque father inside the old freezer, but he gently pushed his son's paw away. "Son, let me help you."

"You could be in danger!"

"What kind of head would I be to let his cats take the chance when it's _his_ job to serve and protect?" He calmly replied. "Let me stand guard." Munkustrap didn't have it in him to deny his father; he didn't have the heart to remind him how old he _actually_ was. Tugger, Alonzo, and Plato joined them. Unlike his big brother, Rum Tum Tugger had no censor.

"Dad, _what are you doing?_ "

"He wants to help." Munkustrap gave him a look to signal him that he oughta shut his trap. Like Hell he would! But Old Deuteronomy halted the argument before it could even start. He walked in front of the younger toms and into the open. All in a guarded stance, they waited for a sign that the intruder was here. They had their eyes peeled; senses alert. Munkustrap got a fraction in front of his father, not bothering to check for his approval. If anyone was going to try anything, they had to tear through him first!

The cats glowered and guttered in low snarls, letting the invader know that they were ready for a fight.

Of all five of them, it was Old Deuteronomy who picked up the scent first. It was because he knew it far better than any Jellicle presently living. An astounded expression unraveled itself on his face and he left the group without warning.

"Dad?" He did not answer, but instead closed in on the south gate. Munkustrap took a cautious step forward, Tugger peered over him. It was deafeningly quiet.

And then, RATS! From every direction jumped on Old Deuteronomy, enclosing him in a net. Both brothers made no haste in hurrying over, but as quickly as they'd appeared, they carried him off, moving at an unnatural pace. Munkustrap called for his father, but he was too far to answer back. Both Munkustrap and Tugger climbed the fence and gave chase. Plato and Alonzo could only watch from behind the perimeter; someone had to stay and watch the others!

The brothers could hardly keep up, which was bizarre. They were experts at exterminating those vermin! They reached the fence that barricaded them from the motorway; cars coming and going. Tugger saw this and held Munkustrap back.

"Bro, _no!_ "

"They've got Dad!"

 _"You see all that roadkill?"_ He pointed to the rats that were squished while they were crossing; supposedly the more expendable henchman of whomever the mastermind was. "There's gotta be a different way!" But Munkustrap couldn't let this happen. Not their father, their guider, their teacher. Munkustrap squeezed under and went sliding down the mud before Tugger could react in time. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" It was the most alarmed Munkustrap had ever heard his brother—after all, he'd just pulled something one would believe only _Tugger_ was capable of!

But they'd stolen something precious from Munkustrap.

His father was still in sight, but only visible through the flashes of headlamps. His ears were popping, roaring engines and screeching tires on all sides, but his target straight ahead. So quick were the vehicles driving by that Munkustrap was pushed slightly every time he skid under one. Just centimeters behind him, in front of him, right over him. He was almost to the divider when one raced overhead and rolled him onto the traffic line.

He would've been steamrolled alive if Rum Tum Tugger hadn't yanked him backward. It passed right over them, knocking them both to the pavement. They jumped over the metal railing and only had brief respite since they had to keep up with their enemy. They hopped over and Tugger pushed Munkustrap forward to help them move faster, but a car speeding past them forced them downward. Munkustrap immediately jumped up and made a narrow dash, but Tugger once again had to pull him back before he ended up staining someone's bonnet. The brothers pushed and pulled each other to keep from being crushed, only able to see what the headlamps illuminated. The asphalt, the road lines, each other's faces, their father becoming smaller and smaller as he vanished into the brush on the other side.

It was Tugger who gave Munkustrap a good shove to the edge before a car knocked the former back once again. The silver cat leapt over the metal bars and onto the grass and through the bushes and then... No one was in sight.

The shrubbery behind him rustled; it was Rum Tum Tugger pouncing through. He took Munkustrap's shoulder and they knelt to the ground. Old Deuteronomy was gone. Neither brother had any words; an expected result of having just watched their father be hauled off into the early morning.

—

It was a silent journey back to the junkyard, where all of the cats were shocked by the disheveled appearance of the most well-groomed felines of the tribe. Windblown, scraped, and fur dusty. While Tugger wore a blank expression, Munkustrap appeared distraught. Alonzo hurried to them, "What happened? Did you see who took him?"

Hardly able to get a breath in, Munkustrap rasped, "No... I couldn't catch him." He needed to sit. Alonzo helped him onto a truck tire.

"They cut across the motorway. Bloody cars almost killed us." Tugger proceeded to fix his mane and clean his coat.

Coricopat approached. "We think we figured out whose scent it was. But I'm afraid if we say it aloud, everyone will panic."

"Everyone's _already_ panicking!" Munkustrap exclaimed. He was still swallowing his own urge to fall apart over the situation. But he mustn't. He had to be reasonable.

"You're not wrong about _that._ " Confessed Plato. "But the kittens are terrified; they've been shaking nonstop since they saw you both run off.

"They're little. Kittens get scared, but they're easy to calm down." Alonzo said. "Just try not to mention who was here tonight."

"Oh for God's sake, _Macavity!_ There. Rip it off like a band-aid." Declared Tugger. All three cats looked angrily at him. "He already made his mark; no use in dancing around it." The riled up Maine Coon took a seat on top of an oven and went back to preening his fur.

"We're not letting him get away with this." Munkustrap stood and started back towards the perimeter. Tugger looked up and watched just as quizzically as the others.

Alonzo protested, "Where are you going?"

"After Macavity. Where else?"

"By yourself?"

"Not a chance." Tugger leapt down. "I'm going with him." Even Munkustrap was surprised by his decision. "Say what you want, but he's _my_ father too." He smirked to try and dampen the tension. "Hopefully the ladies won't miss me too much."

Munkustrap looked his kittenhood friend in the eyes. "Alonzo, you're in charge until we get back." Munkustrap didn't even need to deliberate who would be in charge. It would always have been passed to Alonzo no matter the situation; they both _knew_ this. Alonzo wanted to ask "what if?" But then that would _really_ set everybody off. He knew Munkustrap was resolute, and Tugger was a hardy cat that could take just about anything. They'd be fine.

He silently repeated this mantra as he watched the two march off into the unknown, becoming smaller and smaller until he could no longer see them. They'll be fine. They'll be fine.

—

"Hey, Tugger?" Munkustrap asked suddenly. They'd been quiet since they left the junkyard fifteen minutes ago. It was unsettling that neither had a word of concern or even comfort about what had just happened.

"What?"

"About how I ran out onto the road... We could've both been killed because of how reckless I was. I'm sorry." Tugger looked at him as if he had two heads. "What?"

"You say that like you _forced_ me out in front of those cars."

"If I'd listened and—"

"Bro. Stop." Tugger wasn't exactly good at sincerity. In fact, he was feeling quite uncomfortable from the unneeded apology. "You're smart to not want to listen to me." He tried to make a joke out of it, but for once, his brother was acknowledging that he'd been right. Wouldn't he _want_ that? Even Munkustrap was befuddled. "Look. I probably would've done the same thing if it had been _you_ being taken away. All right?" Good God, that left a weird taste in his mouth. "Let's not waste any more time." He sheepishly paced ahead of him.

For Tugger, _that_ was a heartfelt conversation. Either way, it was more than Munkustrap had expected. He grinned to himself and followed behind. "I can tell you probably cross a lot of streets the way you handled all that traffic."

"I guess you can say I've had some practice in the art of evasion."

"You like to play chicken is what you mean." He snorted.

Tugger curved part of his lip, "It's about knowing what's going on around you at _all_ times. When you pay attention to your environment, nothing... can get... PAST YOU!" He stomped his paw and caught a mouse by the tail. It squirmed to escape. "Hungry?" Munkustrap shook his head; he hadn't even noticed the rodent coming! He was impressed. "Humph. You're lucky." Tugger grumbled at the mouse and let it run free.

"Okay... if we were a thieving, conniving criminal cat, where would we set up base?"

"Somewhere inconspicuous?" Tugger was half-paying attention; he was instead busy trying to coax out a rat from the gutter.

"Come on, I need you to help me think." Munkustrap demanded.

"Bro. I've only _been_ so far out in town. I can't _see_ places I've never been."

The tomcat groaned aggravatedly, "Perfect. Aren't _we_ a pair?" Munkustrap shouldn't put his brother down too much—he himself couldn't imagine things that weren't tangible and he hadn't experienced firsthand. But it would appear that Tugger was better at catching on to his external world and engaging with it than he was. If only he'd pay more attention! "Come on. Look around; where do you suggest we start?"

Tugger poked his head around, "Jesus. Don't you know I'm the _last_ person that oughta be in charge?"

"You're not in charge. You're taking orders." Good to know they could both still be sarcastic while under pressure. Now wasn't the time to argue. They needed to work together.

"I have an idea." Tugger said. Munkustrap trusted his instincts and followed along. He took him to the back alley of a Chinese restaurant, where he dug through the dumpster and found the leftovers of half-eaten takeout.

Munkustrap narrowed his eyes. "You really think he'd come this way, _Tugger?_ "

The Maine Coon threw down some old shrimp and pork strips before joining him on the ground. "Nah. I just felt like something different for breakfast." He pushed over the pork to his brother and he started on the shrimp. Munkustrap was _far_ from appetized.

"This is serious!"

"You really wanna take on Macavity on an empty stomach?" He said with his mouth full. Munkustrap rolled his eyes and gave in. As annoyed as he was, his brother _did_ have a point. He ate the remnants of the pork dish while his brother crunched his way through the shrimp. His brother had a particular taste for anything that he could crush between his teeth. It almost became an odd tic when they were kittens; if his food didn't crunch, he wouldn't want to eat it, so then he'd want to go hunt for something himself. Old Deuteronomy didn't complain because that would just make him more independent when it came time for him to be finding his own food. While Munkustrap didn't want to admit it, this was probably also why Tugger was such a better hunter than he was, even though he ignored _all_ the techniques their father taught them. One of the only benefits that came with his defiant attitude, he supposed.

"Why do humans cook the flavor out of their food?" Tugger randomly enquired. "Don't they know it's better when you eat it right after you kill it?" How was he acting so content after their father had just been catnapped? Or was he just trying to distract _himself_ from the fact? Munkustrap would go along with whatever kept the _both_ of them calm. He ate and listened quietly. "I've seen humans do _a lot_ of weird things to their food. After they cook it, they add things they call 'salt' or 'sauce' to add _back_ flavor. Are they insane?"

"Well, listen to this. In some countries, humans used to eat cats."

Rum Tum Tugger froze and gave him a dirty look. "You told me that when we were kittens!"

Munkustrap couldn't remember. "Did I?"

"Yeah. And it scared the shit outta me! I didn't leave the junkyard for days!" Munkustrap started sniggering; he definitely recalled now – he was a storyteller even back in the day, and gave poor Rum Tum 'tyke' Tugger a good scare with a detailed story of how they boiled a kitten that looked just like him. Tugger, meanwhile, was _far_ from amused. "Yeah, yeah, you laugh until I traumatize _your_ kittens with that story."

"It's true." He dryly said with a smug look.

"Yeah, whatever." Tugger licked his lips and walked down the alley. "Now I'm thirsty."

"Don't let a human see you; you're nice and fat for boiling now."

"Shut it!"

"I wonder what they'd put on you after."

"I'm warning you, _Munkustrap!_ " Munkustrap, still smiling, shut his mouth. When Tugger started calling him by his name, he was getting serious. But in a situation like this, though it was unseen by him, Tugger was glad he'd gotten Munkustrap to tease him a little. Hell, it'd be nice if they could tease each other more often and not when their father was missing.


	8. Searchers

**Demeter**

The morning air was damp and foggy – rain was likely to come. But Demeter couldn't be dissuaded by a little bit of water and thunder. In a world where the grounds were covered with dirt, muck, and rat and bird droppings, rain and wind became her haven. She found that everything smelled and tasted fresh after a storm. Her human owners liked to make mint tea and put on a fire during the stormy and snowy seasons; those were what she came to miss on gloomy days. She could curl up next to the hearth or bundle up in the girl's lap while she watched television.

The girl was whom she was closest to. The woman and the man cared for her and would pet her when she walked by, but the girl was her favorite. The only times she ever found herself exasperated with her was when she tried to paint her claws or put her in her dolls' clothes, then she would hide under the drawer out of her reach. She didn't understand human customs, not even today. The woman was always changing the fur on her head and she even taught the girl how to shave her legs. Humans didn't seem to have much pride in their coats as cats did—their fur was part of who they were, and Demeter wore her tangerine, black, and pearl coat with aplomb.

Though, she still had nothing to boast about. It may be customary for a cat of any kind to walk the streets with dignity, no matter their origin, but Demeter had learned from humans to remain humble and affable towards living creatures. Her humans were her companions, and kindness must be repaid with kindness. Not all people were as noble as her own, but she must be patient. Who knows what sorts of things they might've been through to make them so distrusting of cats. More often than not, she was missing her life with her humans. Three different seasons had passed since she left them; and not a day went by that she didn't miss them, the girl especially. Another thing she missed, as peculiar as any other cat may believe, was the woman's shoes.

She called them 'high heels,' and she owned a pair of all different kinds; one was even called 'kitten heel,' but Demeter couldn't see the correlation. Above that, all the different colors she found on the woman's wall were bewildering. Red, green, silver, black, navy... she missed watching her pick out which pair she'd wear every morning. Demeter would sometimes get distracted if she saw a particularly gorgeous pair on a store window and think about the woman. If she ever saw her again, Demeter wouldn't hesitate to rush to her side and nuzzle her ankles like she used to... but it was for naught. She accepted this long ago.

Demeter often yearned to see the baby again. Human babies did not grow as quickly as cats, so it must be fascinating to watch one grow. The baby was but a mere two human months by the time she left them. It had not been an easy decision, but she couldn't bear to let her humans make it on their own—it was equally painful for them. The baby came first – for the man and woman _and_ Demeter. She had never seen a human baby in person before. The girl was already in her 'child' years by the time they adopted her. Demeter remembered the moment they first locked eyes. She was licking her paw when she looked up and the girl declared with a big, gap-toothed smile: "I want _her!_ "

"Sweetie, we haven't even looked at the others yet." The woman had said. The girl was already inches in front of Demeter's cage.

"No, Mummy! This one!" She put her fingers against the metal bars and Demeter sniffed her, pawed at her. She loved her almost as immediately as the girl had her. She herself was just a kitten when they first brought her home; Demeter did not know much about the world or anything at all, so it was like she was discovering everything for the first time _with_ the girl. They had a backyard in which Demeter liked to explore, sometimes chasing bugs around and snapping at butterflies; the girl loved to play a game called "Sherlock." Every day, she'd put on her father's cap and coat that were much too big for her, and Demeter would follow her up and down the block. If Demeter caught something odd or stomped on a lizard to keep it from biting her precious human, the girl would cheer, "You caught Moriarty's spy! Good work, Watson!"

The child had quite an imagination, something Demeter found endearing. She herself liked to create new and interesting worlds in her head. Through the girl, Demeter got to watch "films." With her, she watched and listened to tapes of _Cinderella_ , _Snow White_ , and most frequently, _Beauty and the Beast_ , which had been the most recent addition to the girl's collection. Every cat had an inborn ability to dance, it just happened to be Demeter's luck that she had a girl who loved to dance as well. She was quite clumsy and uncoordinated, but she would hold Demeter as though she were her partner and twirl with her, sometimes to the point where the feline felt ready to vomit. The things she put up with for love.

They were Demeter's first insights into sweeping adventures of romance and friendship. While she lied next to the girl in her bed to sleep, she would look out the window and imagine her _own_ journey of romance; a quest to find her true mate... but that would be for another time; Demeter was rather comfortable being a house pet, though she felt inclined to explore and wander when the woman and man let her out for some exercise. All roads let to somewhere, so maybe one would lead her to the ideal mate she dreamed of... So many mistakes she wished she could take back.

For now, she'd found herself so caught up in her new routine, that she was stunned to see the Jellicle Tribe having such a crisis when she went to see them that morning. She'd stayed long enough just to watch their leader perform _Pekes and Pollicles_ , and admittedly got a good laugh out of it, but today she saw that neither he, nor his brother, were there. The cats were in an uproar. Something about a catnapping and 'Macavity.'

 _Macavity_.

That name sent shivers down Demeter's spine and her fur stood on end. When had he been here? Who did he take? More importantly, _why_? She couldn't get close enough to hear any details, and she was sure that they would attack any stranger that approached given what just happened. It wasn't hard to deduce that the leader and his brother had gone looking for Macavity, but God knows they'll never find him... not without proper help.

* * *

 **Munkustrap**

It felt like they'd been on the hunt for days when it had only been two hours. They'd jumped in and out of nearly every storm drain and sniffed around, hardly able to catch anything noticeable besides the shit and piss and whatever may be crawling in it, and no progress was being made. Munkustrap's anxiety only got stronger, and the more flustered he got, the more he took it out on poor Tugger. They tried to sneak down into the Underground to peek around, but were shooed out by the pedestrians. They looked anywhere they thought the rats would hang around. The problem was that they were only covering the places they'd been in the West End, which wasn't very much, and the West End barely covered London's size as a whole.

Hell, these two cats didn't even know what _boroughs_ were! Munkustrap was fearful that once they found Macavity, none of them would be able to find their way back home. The humans hustling and bustling everywhere made him restless and want to hide in the shadows. Tugger seemed to be taking it just fine, even _with_ all the unfamiliarity; he was used to wandering around on his own, though the farthest he'd ever gone from the junkyard was Leicester Square. Even _he_ had a limit with himself of how far he could go.

Just how far did Macavity _take_ Old Deuteronomy? Was he even counting on them looking for them? These were things neither cat had considered. For all they knew, he could've just been right around the corner from where they lived and this was all wasted time. They found themselves getting thirsty frequently and had to keep stopping to find water, whether it be a fountain, a puddle, or a rain gutter. Nothing satisfied.

"Brother, any chance that we might want to consider that Macavity's probably watching us and laughing his tail off?" Tugger wondered aloud.

"I'd rather not think about that. All I care about is getting my claws on him when I see him."

"...What if we're not covering enough ground together? What if I go one way and you head—"

"No!" Munkustrap wouldn't even let him finish. "We're _not_ separating."

"Okay, yeesh." He said with a startled tone. "No need to get aggressive."

Munkustrap looked around; there were bound to be some animals in the area, and now that the midday crowd was clearing out, maybe they could find one to ask for help. "Why don't we ask someone if they've seen him around here?"

"Pop, or Macavity?"

"Either one works." Munkustrap trotted off to the nearby street and squeezed under the fence into the back lots; Tugger jumped over. Plenty of fenced backyards where someone was _bound_ to have a dog or let their cats run about. Tugger had seen these kinds of places before, and they were usually bad news. As Munkustrap walked along, Tugger stayed behind.

"Um... bro? This doesn't seem like the kind of place I'd wanna ask for directions."

"What do you mean?" He looked around inquisitively.

"I _mean_ animals that live around here usually aren't on a leash if you get what I mean." He creeped forward, feeling a bit apprehensive for once in his life.

"Come on, Tugger, you're afraid of _dogs_?" He said to get a rise out of him, but Rum Tum Tugger knew the difference between cowardice and _reasonable_ fear. Of all cats, he'd think Munkustrap would comprehend. He liked to have a good time that didn't involve possibly being skinned alive if he could help it.

Tugger mumbled under his breath, "You haven't met the ones _I_ have." Out of nowhere, a baseball landed inches away from his feet and bounced to his right. It was enough to make him twitch and his yelp of surprise made Munkustrap turn around. They looked around to try and find where it had come from, but right then, a puppy that was in fact about Tugger's size came prancing over, wagging his tail. Tugger was relieved. "Awww, hey little guy." He knelt down slightly and pat its head. "You playin' some ball?"

"Tugger, don't harass the puppy."

"I'm not." Munkustrap rolled his eyes and went on searching. He figured that he'd make his way to the end of the lot and then back.

Rum Tum Tugger picked up the ball, he tossed it so the pup could leap up to catch it. "All right, not bad." He was about to go catch up to Munkustrap when suddenly he felt something nudge on his leg. The pup wanted to play more. "Another round? All right, but I won't go easy this time." He was about to take the ball again, but the puppy saw his shiny, spiked collar and dropped it.

He wagged his tail faster and snatched it before Tugger had a moment to react. He vanished with his prize and Tugger made a running dash after him. "H-hey! Get back here!" Munkustrap was oblivious. Tugger stumbled into a muddy puddle, soaking his paws. As if _Etcetera_ was bad about invading his personal space! Even dogs wanted him! He caught up, nearly back out on the road, where the puppy was ogling over the strange artifact. "I believe that belongs to _me_." Tugger held out his paw expectantly, but the puppy hid it under his body, whining. Tugger rolled his eyes with a sigh. He did _not_ have the energy after a draining day it had been. "Come on, don't give me _that_. How about we make a deal? I get my collar... and then you never have to see me again." The Maine Coon wasn't exactly a 'bargainer.' The pup blinked.

How did dogs work again? Tugger had an idea. "Hey, hey boy!" As if forgetting what he'd said just seconds ago, the puppy pricked up. "Can you roll over for me?" He swung his finger in circular motions. "Roll over!" Giddy, the puppy obeyed, leaving Tugger's collar exposed. He grabbed it and started laughing; the dog's face fell. He buckled it back around his neck. "Seriously! You guys fall for _everything!"_ The dog began to whimper and howl miserably. Tugger's ears sank painfully. "My God, don't start with that!" He went on with his tantrum, howling in a high-pitched wail. "Why don't you go cry to your mummy instead?"

There was a cracking _SNARL_ that made Tugger jump out of his skin. The midnight-black fur on his body stood taller than his mane and when he lurched to his right, two full-grown Doberman Pinschers were baring their fangs at the cat; they made the beast of the Jellicles look like a pygmy. Drool strung down from the male's lip. He _tried_ to put on a smirk and act calm, but his limbs and joints were already shaking.

"Ah..." He gulped, "I suppose _you're_ Mummy and Daddy? Heh! Well, since you folks want to speak to your kid, I guess I'll just—" And Tugger turned on his heels and sprinted at full speed; the barking dogs gave chase. _"Oh, shit!_ MUNKUSTRAP!"

The black and grey cat turned around; all he saw was his brother in a full panic with two giants chasing behind him. _"What did you do?"_

 _"I screwed up!"_ They were chased all the way to the end of the lot where a fence divided them from the safety of the road. _Come on, come on...!_ Both cats made their best leaps and launched over the top; the dogs growled at them from behind the chain-linked fence. They stopped, caught their breaths... and then they laughed.

Munkustrap wheezed. "That wasn't so bad."

And then the male tore right through the worn metal. "DAMN IT!" Rum Tum Tugger pushed Munkustrap ahead of him and the two sprang over puddles, leapt over stiles, and dived from yard to yard to try and get the Doberman off their tails. It wasn't until a passing car stopped the Doberman and gave the cats just enough time to escape into town. They hopped onto a windowpane and chased their breath.

"Tugger?"

Please, not another lecture. "What?"

Munkustrap debated it, but he saw that he'd learned his lesson. "I hate dogs."

"Finally, we agree on something."


	9. Apprehension

**Munkustrap**

It wasn't long after the spectacle that Munkustrap got thinking about the first time he heard the name Macavity; it had been known amongst the tribe for ages and he and his brother were no exception to being warned of him. He remembered that he and Tugger were still just kittens and their father returned to their resting spot after a long day of mediating a fight between some of the Jellicles and another gang of cats. He knew he'd been busy because he was late to bringing back dinner, which meant he had _a lot_ on his paws that day.

Munkustrap had loved nothing better than to sit with his family at dinner and talk, but today, he could see in Old Deuteronomy's face that he had something to say to them and he should keep quiet. "Tugger." He said calmly. The young tom stiffened up upon hearing his name. It never meant anything good. "I was informed that you were seen... _playing_ with a strange cat today."

"Yes, so?"

"What did I tell you and your brother about playing with outsiders?" Munkustrap sucked his breath in and Tugger's eyes darted at him; he'd been wondering how he'd been caught and _who_ would have told on him so quickly.

"I'm not hurt! No one's in any danger."

"Either way, you didn't listen to me."

Tugger looked angrily at Munkustrap, "Why didn't you just mind your own business?"

"They might've hurt you!" The kit snapped.

Old Deuteronomy stirred. "Quiet, both of you." His voice cracked like a whip and they turned away from each other. "You don't know who those cats are affiliated with. For all you know, he could be in league with Macavity."

Munkustrap's ears ruffled curiously. "Macavity?"

"He's a notorious cat who's broken every human law... and he's no less merciless towards kittens like you two. You've _got_ to be careful when someone approaches you."

"I saw that cat try to scratch at your face." Munkustrap said to Tugger.

"He was teaching me how to fight. It's not like either of _you_ have time for that anymore." He replied loudly.

"You just like to pick fights with everyone!"

"I'll pick one with _you!_ "

"Enough!" Old Deuteronomy rose over both of them, making both kittens' ears go back. "Tugger, tell me what happened, and I want the _truth_. Then Munkustrap, it'll be your turn to tell me what you saw." He watched his two boys that used to wake him up with nuzzles and tackles every morning struggle to get a grip of their tempers. Hardly even teenagers and they were already bringing so much havok. Rum Tum Tugger told him the simple story of how the cat had seen him trying to catch a bird and wanted to show him some tricks that'll help him in 'the long run.' One of his demonstrations went wrong and his claws just barely missed his face.

Munkustrap, being overprotective even then, had seen his brother being attacked and given a good pummeling as a way of 'teaching him self-defense.' Nearly injuring a kitten was _not_ how one learned to fight back. Old Deuteronomy was able to make clear sense of the misunderstanding. "All right, I see you both have your own interpretations of what went on. Either way, you should know better than to let a stranger get so close to you, Tugger."

"You're taking _his_ side?"

"I'm taking no one's side. You were the one who broke the rules."

Munkustrap swished his tail and, feeling a bit superior for a fleeting moment, said, "He wouldn't know what it's like to follow any instruction that's given to him."

Rum Tum Tugger flew at his brother like a wild panther and knocked him down, scratching at him. Both were shrieking animalistically, twisting spastically.

 _"Spoiled brat!"_

 _"Get off of me!"_

"Tugger! _Stop this!"_ Old Deuteronomy grabbed his younger by the scruff of his neck and yanked him off of his brother. "I'm not raising unruly beasts!" He said to both boys, making sure one remembered he was equal to the other. But Tugger wasn't finished.

"You're a _pet!"_ At that, Munkustrap's eyes reddened; he bared his teeth with a growl in his chest.

Old Deuteronomy looked at Rum Tum Tugger in the eyes, "Tugger, you need to learn some self-control. Munkustrap, you watch that tongue of yours as well."

Embarrassed, Munkustrap fixed his posture and lowered his head. "Yes, Sir." He muttered lowly. Tugger felt briefly victorious, but he remembered he was still the one 'in the wrong.' "What about Macavity?"

"What _about_ him? You're lucky it _wasn't_ him. Now that you both know about him, I expect you'll be more wary the next time you walk out those gates." Old Deuteronomy walked away and both brothers looked at each other with undisputed anger... but as brothers do, they both moved past it. They were so young, Munkustrap wouldn't be surprised if Tugger forgot all about that fight by now. It was enough to impact Munkustrap for a lifetime; he never forgot his father's first mention of Macavity and the chaos it brought to their family.

—

He'd always known Macavity was important to remember; his father wouldn't bring him up for no reason. Tugger had learned his lesson that day, but didn't take his warning too seriously. All he knew now was that their father was missing and they _both_ wanted to find him... they still didn't understand _why_ this had happened. _Why_ them? There had to be a reason, but Munkustrap couldn't make any sensible connection. He had to have known their father at some point to want something to do with him personally, but who in their right mind would want to hurt Old Deuteronomy?

There were more hateful ideas swimming in his thoughts – if he couldn't protect his own father, how was he supposed to protect an entire tribe of cats he loved? How could anyone know they could rely on him? The problem he was facing today made minor mess-ups in _Pekes and Pollicles_ seem so trivial by comparison. Why did it take _this_ to put things into perspective?

"Bro, are you okay?" Munkustrap snapped out of his thoughts; he didn't realize he'd been trailing behind Tugger with a worried expression on his face.

"Yeah. Sorry." He looked at the sky; it had become yellow and pink so quickly. The streets were emptier and so much time had escaped them. They'd made zero progress since dawn that morning. "What if we don't find Dad?"

"We're gonna find him." Tugger answered assuredly.

"Okay, what do we do _when_ we find him, then? How are we gonna deal with Macavity?"

"We'll deal with it when we get to it."

"We can't just jump in without a plan, Tugger!"

"I don't see _you_ coming up with any."

Munkustrap stopped; he took a breath. "Let's not fight. _Now_ is not the time."

"I wasn't fighting." Even Tugger was rubbing his eyes from exhaustion now; neither had slept since two nights ago. Both were growing irritable from pressure and weariness.

"We've been walking in circles for hours and I don't know how we expect to find Macavity in less than a day."

"It's hard to even pick up his scent all the way out here. There's _too_ many to get through."

"How do you think the tribe's doing?"

"I don't know. I'm not there."

"I said how do you _think_?"

"Would you relax?"

"No! Our father is missing and you can't not be sarcastic for _two seconds!_ " Tugger rolled his eyes; he knew Munkustrap was high-strung only because he was terrified. Tugger was no less upset, but panicking only led to situations like this: useless bickering. Of course, no one _expected_ him to be the responsible one, not even his brother, so why even bother? He'd let Munkustrap have his tantrum and they'd continue on. "I'm sorry!" He suddenly said. "I just don't know what to do. I don't know what we're gonna do if we find him, if we _don't_ find him... what about everyone else? How am I supposed to take care of _them_?"

Tugger couldn't stand to see his brother in so much distress. It wasn't just their father being in danger – it was all this pressure building up. So much weight on his shoulders and he was finally ready to collapse. Rum Tum Tugger had been watching this slow build-up for years but never realized it'd actually be coming until he saw it for his own eyes just then.

"Bro, I want you to listen to me for a second." He took a moment to make sure Munkustrap was paying attention – they'd switched roles. "All this responsibility you've got on your paws, all this pressure..." Sincerity remained a challenge, but he swallowed thickly and spoke his mind. "I'm worried about you." He spit out. Munkustrap returned a nasty glare that Tugger wasn't ready for. "If you're asking for honesty, here it is! Being leader is going to be too much for you! You can barely handle it _now!_ "

"Ironic coming from _you_." He replied spitefully. Immature, he knew, but he didn't care, not anymore. "Father expects me to do well. I have to be able to—"

"—Again with the 'father expects.' Who cares? You go around being whatever people _want_ you to be! It's embarrassing!"

"Embarrassing?" Munkustrap was near shouting. "Try having a lawless, selfish _lunatic_ for a brother who only cares about what he can get his cock into!" As if the skies were empathetic, there was a low, muffled thunder in the distance. Tugger's eyes went blank and Munkustrap instantly took back his words. Who _was_ he just then? What had his fears done to him? "I'm sorry." His voice shook and his eyes glowed remorsefully. "I didn't mean it."

It was too late. Rum Tum Tugger's own brother had hit home. He couldn't even look at Munkustrap, who was in absolute turmoil. Tugger abruptly glared at him in a blaze of fury and misery. "At least I _know_ those things about me. What about _you_ _?_ What's your excuse for being a fraud whose only want in life is to be his father's puppet?" He coolly demanded.

Now _his_ nerves had been struck. "I love our tribe. I _will_ protect it from anything that threatens to destroy it."

"But what about when Father isn't here anymore? Who'll be around to tell you what to do _then_?" Another crack of thunder and a pained silence. Munkustrap felt like he'd just been slapped. Tugger recoiled bitterly. "You're better at getting things done without my help anyway." Silence. And then Tugger popped the collar of his jacket and wordlessly strided away.

Munkustrap called to him twice, but the Maine Coon ignored him and leapt out of sight. What had he done? How did he fix this? Useless. _Useless. Useless. Useless._

It had already gotten dark and Munkustrap could hardly stand up straight. No humans or cars in sight, and only one streetlamp remained lit. He curled up underneath it, but then it went out suddenly too. He was alone there in total darkness; alone with his regret and guilt...

He wasn't always this way, and neither was Tugger. They had just been innocent kittens what felt like a mere few days ago. Time either moved too quickly or not quickly enough. Life had been so simple then. He recalled the days Tugger was just learning to walk and he'd let out the squeakiest _meeeeew_ anyone had ever heard. He also didn't have such a wild mane, hard to believe. He was even smaller than Munkustrap back then! He remembered when all he had to worry about was being able to climb atop the highest bedstead without falling when he was a kitten. No speeches, no priorities... he remembered his favorite game with Tugger and some other kittens: Stalk and Pounce. Sometimes Tugger would hide behind a corner and surprise him whenever he got a chance... this was also the little brother who ran for cover every time he heard thunder and shook nervously at the sight of lightning.

Munkustrap would read a picture book to him every night; _Growltiger's Last Stand_. A popular kitten's tale. He was sure it was still hidden somewhere around their abode. Tugger would say how he wanted to be a mighty tiger when he grew up, and they would pretend play all sorts of hunting games. If he was scared at night, he'd curl up to Munkustrap if Old Deuteronomy wasn't around, and the former would wrap the little kit in his tail. That was before he knew he'd have such a big role to play in his future. This was back when he was just Munkustrap; a son and a big brother who loved making up stories and climbing everything in sight.

Alone there in the night, Munkustrap wanted these precious moments to be alive again... but now it was just a memory. And soon tonight would be a memory too.


	10. Promise

**Part 2: The Madness at Midnight**

* * *

 **Rum Tum Tugger**

Alone time was his sanctuary. It was the only way he could process what was going on inside his head. Or, more specifically, his heart. He had little restraint in his actions, and sometimes they stemmed from his emotions, good _and_ bad. But no one got to see them. No one had to know – his feelings were _his_ business... not even his father or brother were aware of them. He didn't let anyone see how powerful they could get; that wasn't who he was, and it wasn't how he _wanted_ to be seen. They didn't have to see that side of him. _Tugger_ didn't want to acknowledge that side of himself, but here it was.

He sat alone on a rooftop in silence, letting the brisk wind rustle through his fur. Thinking.

He didn't care what others thought about him; he never cared. If someone didn't like who he was, they could get lost. Munkustrap and their old man didn't understand what authenticity was. They had to be liked by _everyone_... as did Rum Tum Tugger. But he wanted to be liked as he was, not for being a phony. Why was he helping Munkustrap look for their dad anyway? Old Deuteronomy had no use for him.

He'd known for long that he was only a problem kitten for his father. Every time he thought about it he found himself clawing into the surface below his paws. What hurt most was just how much he _loved_ him. He loved his father and brother. They were family. Blood is heavier than water... or something like that. Old Deuteronomy put up with his antics, tolerated him, and still showed him affection whenever they saw each other... he was just that good at hiding how much better he liked Munkustrap. Tugger had seen enough to believe it—Old Deuteronomy seemed to be in denial that he had a favorite. Hell, if he were a bit more self-confident, Munkustrap would be _everyone's_ favorite.

Tugger didn't have leadership skills, 'kind eyes,' or a knack for storytelling... but he had a strong voice. And he was handsome. He could work with handsome _very_ well. His first urge to mate was what kickstarted his popularity with the queens. He had energy, and he took an immediate awareness to the art of passion and sex... that and he got a lot of practice in. Romance wasn't his priority; pleasure was. And bloody Hell, did _he_ know how to give and receive pleasure. He was tickled pink when he learned there were all sorts of different _methods_ to this euphoria... especially since he was taught about them first-hand. Strange to think, but Rum Tum Tugger himself was once a virgin and an amateur. Still, he didn't care for cuddling and kissing; then whatever queen he was with would get the idea that there had been emotions involved.

The only thing that could ruin his fun were if feelings ever got in the way. Sometimes the idea of actually _developing_ a connection with someone sounded nice, but it wasn't something he was going to seek for himself, not until it found him by chance. Life was fun when it was unpredictable... but sometimes it was disheartening, like it was tonight. He was deliberating what he would do in the morning. Maybe he'd look for Munkustrap, maybe he'd go home, maybe he'd just take a day to be by himself. He didn't care. He'd decide when he woke up.

* * *

 **Munkustrap**

The Egyptian Mau slowly opened his eyes when he felt a presence over him. Not directly next to him, but he knew someone was watching him. It made him uneasy. He steadily got to his feet and looked around. He remained silent to not let whatever could be lurking know he was aware of them. But then it hit him; the scent that stung his nose and ears. His fur bristled and his claws emerged.

He knew whatever was nearby was going to pounce. When it did, Munkustrap turned and gave it a clean swipe across the face. The ginger cat rolled twice but ended upright. Macavity had come to _him_ instead. Right when Tugger was gone. He'd have to do this alone. Before he had any time to follow-up on his attack, Macavity launched himself onto Munkustrap and pinned him down; his claws dug into his shoulders. He couldn't even wriggle to get free. He caressed a claw along Munkustrap's cheek, he had a sinister grin as he taunted in his gravelly voice, "Who'll save your people now?" He tried to swing a paw at him, but Macavity was already tearing into his throat.

Munkustrap jerked awake with a full-body twitch, a jackhammer in his chest, shivering frantically. Gasping for air, he looked around wildly and felt for the wound on his neck. Gone. Not there. It wasn't real. The fear dwindled and ceased. He was alone, and for once he took some relief in that. Just then, there was a noise. One that was nearby and very real. Munkustrap began to pray that this was another nightmare, and if not, that the panic was enough to ready him for the attack. Something moved.

A shadow darted from a fire escape to behind a dumpster.

"I know you're there." Munkustrap said with as much authority as he could muster; he was still a bit numb from the dream. "Come out." He commanded. The shape came closer, and Munkustrap felt every hair on his body go erect, but stepping into the light was someone unexpected.

Demeter.

Munkustrap remained on guard, but his eyes softened noticeably. Demeter looked equally terrified although _she_ was the one coming closer. Munkustrap changed to a more neutral stance and let her approach... but when he tried to reach his paw to her, she pulled away as though she'd touched a burning hot surface. He knelt slightly, showing he was submitting to her. Demeter felt more secure and walked in front of him. It was their first time seeing each other up close. She was all the more alluring to him.

She made a nervous sound in her throat and he recoiled. She struggled to find words. "I... I've been looking for you."

 _She can speak, too?_ Mystified by the occurrence, Munkustrap took a moment to respond. "You have?"

"Yes." They could barely keep eye-contact. "You're called Mun-ku-strap... right?" She enunciated to make sure she got it correct. He nodded.

"You're Demeter." She looked baffled. "It says it on your collar." She was so accustomed to it that she forgot her collar even had a nametag. It was all she had left from her human family. "I've seen you many times before; you come around the tribe a lot."

"I hope I haven't made anyone uncomfortable." She spoke with a soft, smooth voice that gave Munkustrap gentle chills. It was strangely pleasant. "I'm not exactly used to approaching people."

Munkustrap arched a brow. "What makes _me_ different?"

"All of the other cats seem to trust you." She quietly replied. "They look up to you." Munkustrap's cheek twitched and his mannerisms became painfully uneasy. Had she said something wrong? He turned away from her and she apologized. It had been so long since she interacted with another at face-to-face that she had no idea what the right or wrong thing to say was. She had only honestly stated what she'd observed. Munkustrap found that he was overreacting and faced her once more.

"Why'd you come looking for me?" He went straight to the necessary questions.

Demeter was caught off guard and she stammered a little before answering. "I... wanted to help you." She saw his expression change and could tell that he was skeptical. "I heard about what happened. Macavity took somebody from the tribe."

Munkustrap's heart skipped a beat. "Do you know him?"

"Well, not anymore." That only made it worse. Her nerves flared up. "I knew him once, but that's because I thought he was someone _different_. I was naive back then." He gave her a look as if he knew she was up to something, but he was entirely wrong! He'd just been trained so well to never trust outsiders. "You don't believe me?"

"We've never even met and all of the sudden you want to help me find Macavity?"

All right, fair point. "I never had a reason to speak to you before. I was afraid that if I got too close, Macavity might come looking for me and find you all as well."

Now the tom was more curious than suspicious. "Why would he be looking for _you_?" Demeter grit her teeth; she had no desire to spout such words to someone so dignified. But what other choice did she have?

"I used to be his mate." Munkustrap's heart sank and his thoughts made a complete one-eighty degree turn. She looked ashamed. "It was nice at first... He was a real gentlecat. He never forced himself on me... not even _after_ things started to change. It's just he'd never let me _leave_." She looked down to the ground. "When it became too much, I left the first chance I got. That was months ago."

"What made you stick around _this_ area?"

Demeter looked up into his eyes. "Your tribe." She said plainly. "Something about the unity of your kind made me want to stay. Once I got into my head that I could be a part of you all, I couldn't get rid of it." She spoke with sincerity so pure and gentle that Munkustrap felt like he'd known her in a past life, or two lives ago. Suddenly, they were no longer strangers. "I promise I mean you no harm." She knelt on one knee and respectfully held out her paw. "I know where Macavity's hideaways are, and I promise to take you to him and help find your friend."

Munkustrap was reluctant to accept right away. He had _other_ concerns now. "What about you? What will he do if he sees you?"

"I'm full-grown; I can take care of myself now." She said calmly and awaited his acceptance. Munkustrap rubbed his paw against hers – trust had been earned.

* * *

 **Demeter**

Walking beside the Jellicle leader for the first time was almost like an out-of-body experience for Demeter. She hadn't been so close to one of her kind since leaving Macavity. She didn't find it necessary to go into the details yet; maybe once they knew each other a little better... She _hoped_ they'd become better friends through this journey. Right now she had to make an effort of sniffing out Macavity's hideout and not make it obvious to any rats that might be watching that they were looking for him. "He has eyes everywhere." She told Munkustrap. "That's how he makes his getaways – he always knows when someone's on his tail." They crossed the empty street and started across an abandoned lot.

"How long were you with him?" Demeter shot a look at him. "If you don't mind answering." Munkustrap nervously threw in. Demeter felt she'd reacted too harshly—she could only see kindness in the tomcat's eyes. He himself seemed unsure and demure as he asked.

"Six weeks." Six _cat_ weeks, to make it clear. Much longer than human weeks. Munkustrap was surprised _anyone_ could be with a cat so infamous for that amount of time. "It wasn't _all_ bad... It really opened my eyes, if that makes any sense."

Munkustrap's tail curiously swished. "What do you mean?"

The nametag on Demeter's collar jingled as she came to a stop. "I was raised by humans. I didn't know much about the world when I met him. I didn't know much about _anything_ at all, really." She sheepishly admitted.

The Jellicle had suspected, but he was rather surprised. "You're a—" He stopped himself; his lips smacked shut. But Demeter already knew.

"Go ahead, say it." Her tone was icy and defensive. "A _pet_." She was well aware of the hubris strays had about themselves. They were known by the animals in her old community as 'the free felines.' To pets, strays were inconsequent and filthy. To strays, pets were haughty and conceited. Demeter couldn't understand the mindset; weren't all cats the same? Her philosophy was to see all cats as equals... but now she'd find out if a free feline could even understand the idea. The entire time they spoke, Demeter was studying Munkustrap's eyes. They exuded a gentleness with every expression he made. One that felt like home. One of modesty as he changed his manner.

"No!" Munkustrap looked mortified; he didn't want to offend her! "I'm just surprised. I see you so often that I'd thought you were a stray."

Demeter sniggered, a slight blush came to her cheeks. She was both endeared and abashed at once. "Well, I _used_ to be a pet." Munkustrap cocked his head to the side. "The humans I lived with were wonderful. I was their family, and they were mine. They were the only family I'd ever had." She said fondly. "About two human years after they brought me home was when the woman had a baby. Have you ever seen a human baby?"

Munkustrap shook his head. "I've never gotten familiar with humans, to tell you the truth."

She smiled widely. "They're adorable. They're like little kittens, only squishier and no fur anywhere... they have teeny little hands and feet. Hands are what humans call their paws." Her heart was warmed by the sweet memories of the woman's baby boy. She missed him. She missed _them_. "But every time I got near the baby, he'd get welts a little while after. Once it got so bad that they had to take him to a hospital." Munkustrap blinked. "That's where humans go to take care of their sick... apparently the baby wasn't breathing right and his throat was almost closed." Her voice grew more somber; she'd never spoken about this aloud to anyone, not even Macavity. Munkustrap was rapt, but full of compassion as he listened. "The humans figured out _I_ was making the baby sick. They were talking about what they should do. The man wanted to let me stay in the backyard, but the woman said it might not be safe because of the neighbor's dogs. The girl didn't want me to leave, but every time I thought of the baby, I thought of how I wanted him to grow up sprightly and healthy like her... I couldn't let them make that decision." Demeter took a deep breath. "I scratched on the window so the man would open it; I liked to lie on the ledge during the day if it was sunny. But anyway, when he went into the other room, I jumped out... and I walked away... I never looked back." Munkustrap was mesmerized—moved. His heart ached for her. He didn't know humans had the capacity to love a cat as much as hers did... and he was equally amazed by how she spoke of them with so much tenderness.

It made him think of what if he'd ever have to leave his own tribe for their well-beings... he'd do it for them, but there was no way he'd be as brave about it.

Demeter was not finished. "A little while after was when I met Macavity. He found me scrounging for food in a dumpster since I wasn't the _best_ hunter at the time... He was really sweet to me. He taught me a lot about the city and getting around, how to be light on my feet, all those sorts of things. I'd thought I'd found my Prince Charming." She laughed. She needed to laugh at her own foolishness – what else could she do now that it was in the past? Munkustrap couldn't help but chortle along.

"Prince Charming?"

"In the girl's 'tapes,' something that shows moving pictures on a box they call a television, women would sing about their Prince Charmings and they would always end up falling in love and living 'happily ever after.'" She rolled her eyes, but wore a smile. "It was so silly."

"We're all silly when we're young." Munkustrap reassured. Demeter's eyes lightened and she looked at him, half-expecting to hear one of his own stories. Munkustrap sensed this and he thought of where to start. "I used to tell my little brother all kinds of crazy stories and make him believe they were real... sometimes just to scare him, because I was cruel." He chuckled. If Tugger were here, he'd confirm that in a heartbeat.

"Is he the one with the leopard spots and fuzzy mane?" Munkustrap grinned widely and nodded. That's him all right! He was laughing at her description. "He's your _little_ brother?"

"He wasn't _always_ that tall, and his mane wasn't always so fluffy. He also used to be quiet, which is hard to believe. If he were here, he'd say that he's the better-looking brother." Demeter easily believed that; she'd seen his wild, anarchic performances and the girls all squealing over every movement of his pelvis. Demeter would roll her eyes and shake her head. Yes, he was good-looking, but a bit too silly for her taste. To her, Munkustrap was just as handsome... if not more so! Most of his beauty came from his humility – Demeter always felt this way about the tomcats she found herself attracted to. Modesty was alluring... Macavity had put on a modest facade. But unlike Macavity, Munkustrap was not taking advantage of her desperate situation; he also wasn't as quick to share his stories and listen so politely.

She felt closer to him in these few moments than she ever did during her time with Macavity. But this was all going on inside – Munkustrap had no idea how deeply she was feeling.

In fact, he seemed to forget they had a job to do. He was trying to think of something interesting to tell. "My brother and I loved Stalk and Pounce when we were kittens; sometimes he'd creep up on me when I wasn't paying attention and get the upper-paw... but I used to know to swipe his arm off and he'd topple over. I could never do that _now_." Demeter grinned warmly. "We used to have it so easy... we used to be a lot closer." He could remember little Tugger rolling around him, nibbling his ear, tackling him in a play-fight. He'd do _anything_ for his big brother's attention. Demeter was noticing Munkustrap's change in expression. He looked solemn. "I'll never forget when our father came up to us one day and said he had something important to talk to me about... he said it was time for be to start learning responsibility, because once he passes, I'll be in charge of the tribe." Demeter knew it! So _that_ was why he was always running around with something to do. Poor thing must have so much pressure.

"That's a big burden to carry."

"It's not a burden. I'd do anything to take care of the Jellicles... it's just that sometimes I don't know what they _want_ from me." His eyes dimmed. "I want Dad to be proud of me. I want him to know that his tribe's in good paws when he dies." This was suddenly becoming very liberating for the _both_ of them. Demeter scooted closer and heeded his words. Munkustrap sighed deeply. "My brother was right. I have no idea what I'm gonna do when he's gone." He said as he concurrently came to the realization. "I have no idea how I'm gonna take care of everyone or how I'm gonna keep them safe. I couldn't even keep my own _father_ safe!" His voice shuddered and Demeter closed the space between them. Even if all she could offer was her silent support, at least it was something.

"You're out here looking for him now, and we're close! Look how far you've come to bring him home." She comfortingly rubbed his arm. "You'll know what to do when the time comes." Munkustrap took deep breaths to calm himself. No need to get emotional; she was right, after all. He'd come far, and with her help, there was no doubt that he'd find Old Deuteronomy and bring him home safe.

"Thank you." He whispered. Demeter nodded and Munkustrap caressed her paw out of gratitude. Her touch was as soothing as the daylight, as far away as it was. Now that he'd had some catharsis, he knew he could press on.


	11. Disappointment

**Rum Tum Tugger**

Drifting to sleep, Tugger's mind overflowed with memories of kittenhood. He recalled his earliest memory being batting at Munkustrap's tail and rolling in every direction as he pawed at him to leave him alone. Once he started reminiscing, his mind went into every mundane event that meant something to him. Sharing his toys with his brother, bringing home some of his first kills, being small lizards and mice, and their father praising him, calling him his 'little hunter.' Old Deuteronomy initially nicknamed him _Tiger_ , but as Tugger's fur coat grew in, he realized he was no tiger, but a leopard. And a leopard indeed he was.

Rum Tum Tugger loved trees in his youth. Any time Old Deuteronomy took the boys out to learn some hunting techniques or to observe the humans, Tugger would sneak away to climb the highest tree he could. He strutted across the thinnest branches, jumped from one trunk to the other. Tugger thought of himself as adventurous, while Old Deuteronomy said his recklessness would bite his tail one of these days. "Pop! Munkustrap! Look how high I got!" He'd shout from atop a tree in Manchester Square.

"Tugger! Come down this instant! You could fall!"

"Cats _always_ land on their feet!" The kitten rationalized.

Munkustrap tried to convince him; he was more likely to listen to his brother than father. "Not from that high up! Come down!" The kit sighed, but as he was ready to proceed down one branch at a time, he decided to take the more fun route. Tugger leapt down from where he stood and all Hell broke loose in both his father and brother. "NOT THAT WAY!" He vividly remembered Munkustrap shrieking. But Tugger landed safely into a bush, just as he'd planned. When he popped his head out and showed he was all right, Old Deuteronomy put his paw on his chest, panicked and relieved at once. Munkustrap could only shake his head. "We would've had a sad story to tell when we got back, huh, Dad?"

Tugger confidently trotted over, tail proudly in the air. "Your turn, Munkustrap! I dare you! I _double_ dare you!"

"No way!" Munkustrap scolded, smiling. Tugger pulled the same stunt again a week later, but this time their father wasn't there to dissuade Munkustrap from following him. All the way up in the tree, Munkustrap kept curled up against the leaves while Tugger stood all the way out to the tip of the branch. "Tugger, I think I'm ready to go down now."

Tugger turned around and sneered. "Scaredy cat!"

"Am not!" He flushed.

"Then come over and look at the view." Tugger sat and made room for Munkustrap to approach. Keeping his body as close to the bark as possible, Munkustrap took long, careful steps over and clawed onto the surface with as much determination as possible. "Okay, I've seen enough. Let's go." Tugger bit his tail. "Hey!"

"Come on! You gotta do the jump!"

"Are you crazy?"

"Maybe." Tugger beamed widely. At least he was honest. "Here. You just gotta map out where you wanna land and make a leap for it!" Despite his ideas of 'fun' were absolutely foolish, Munkustrap more often than not found himself in awe of Rum Tum Tugger's fearlessness. He was born brave and daring, while Munkustrap felt he had to work himself up to having such traits. Of course, _one_ of the brothers had to be sensible and keep them on planet earth, the other had the job of getting the other out of their shell.

"I'm all for having some fun, but I'm not ready to die today, Tugger."

"Psh. Your loss." Tugger reared back, "I've got... _nine more liiiiiiiiives!_ " He yelled all the way down until he plunged into the shrubbery. Munkustrap craned his neck frantically until he saw his brother crawl out unscathed. He sat and looked up—as if he actually he actually _expected_ Munkustrap to follow his lead.

"Uh-uh! No way am I gonna—" The branch beneath him snapped and he toppled over, screaming all the way down until he plummeted into the brush below. He shambled out, covered in leaves, looking like his life had flashed before his eyes.

"Hey, bro, you got something on your fur." Munkustrap swiped his paw at him and tackled him; this was back when he could still outmuscle his little brother. They were both able to laugh about the occasion the entire walk home. As fondly as Rum Tum Tugger could think of his kittenhood, it wasn't always that sugary and cavity-inducing.

Tugger's kittenhood ended even _before_ the curse of puberty – he'd go from getting to play with his brother and be adored by their father every day to wandering around _looking_ for someone to spend time with or amuse himself. He'd find a random item and make a toy out of it, but he'd get bored of it really quickly and find something else. Sometimes he'd get so desperate as to chase his own tail for thirty seconds. He was friendly with Alonzo and Plato, since Munkustrap had been friends with them for much longer, but they were his brother's age and interested in 'more mature' activities. What _was_ his brother doing that was so important anyway?

Old Deuteronomy had come to them one day with significant news – more significant for Munkustrap than it was _intriguing_ for Rum Tum Tugger. He was excited to learn that his brother would inherit the tribe... but he wondered that if he'd known it'd take up all his time and energy, would it have been easier to deal with? Perhaps he'd be more prepared to spend so much time by himself. He went from having a companion to delve into the mysteries of life with to having to grow up all alone. His brother had to grow up much more quickly, sure, but at least he had their father to guide him and explain all the changes he was going through... Tugger had to figure it out on his own. Sometimes when their father was giving Munkustrap a lesson on history, Tugger would paw on his back, nip on his tail, and without turning around, Old Deuteronomy would go to pat his head but get his face instead.

He once tried to listen to one of these lectures, but he found it way too boring and left the scene. That was when he was willing to try almost _anything_ to spend some time with them. Whenever he'd see Munkustrap passing by during the day, Tugger would perk up and smile brightly, but he'd end up hustling right past him to complete an assignment their father had given them. At least they had the nights together. Munkustrap would keep his word when he promised to play with him once he was done with his practices, even if it was past midnight. He'd wind up burning out instantly and Tugger would curl up by his side – he'd take whatever he could get... But he didn't understand. Was Munkustrap better than him now? Did Tugger have any purpose to serve for their father? He had Munkustrap to take care of the tribe when he was gone, so what was _he_ expected to do?

He supposed that was also something he'd have to discover by himself... and it wouldn't even be his choice. Despite Rum Tum Tugger's enormous love for his father, and Old Deuteronomy's utter devotion to him, he found himself becoming increasingly distant with the old cat. They seemed to have no use for one another, at least that's how Tugger would've put it in his more resentful years. And even though part of him wanted to despise his brother, that was an impossible feat. He was still the brother with whom he'd played in the park, stayed up late, and who protected him from bad dreams. When Munkustrap wasn't kept occupied, he'd make sure he got to have a pleasant word with his brother, ask him about life and discuss small things that were relevant at the time. But Tugger also thought he knew just what the future would be. Munkustrap would be superior to him in every way, and then he'd have no time for his useless little brother. He dreaded the occasion.

In the meantime, as Tugger reached peak adolescence and Munkustrap had only begun his twenties, his sexual urges were at an all-time high. He wasn't the tribe heartthrob yet, and he had no idea such a title awaited him, but the young queens had noticed what a figure Tugger had, as well as his brooding green eyes and intense stare. They noticed how often he was off on his own and how he separated himself quite a bit from the Jellicles, despite being a loyal one. He was a rebel in his own right. If Old Deuteronomy told him to be home by a certain time, they could count on him to be home by sunrise instead. If he was ordered not to interrupt an important meeting, he'd be stealing that spotlight. He always anticipated having a 'stern talking to' from his father after, and intended to _never_ learn his lesson. Munkustrap wouldn't have anything to say, but it was still clear whose side he was on—he really _was_ a fur carpet.

Tugger _would_ give his brother credit for trying – during these lectures, Munkustrap would attempt to interrupt, but he was hushed every time. Once when they'd thought he'd left the junkyard (he in fact made _sure_ that they assumed so), Tugger snuck around the corner and listened to them speak. That was when his respect for his brother was resurrected, and the pedestal he placed his father on was broken. "Dad, I think you're too hard on Tugger sometimes."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, talking down on him isn't gonna teach him how to behave. Maybe we should _really_ try having a conversation together. All three of us." Already Tugger was convinced Munkustrap would make a perfect mediator when he was leader. He was a natural when it came to others' feelings – he could relate without needing to experience whatever they'd been through himself.

"We both know that Tugger just doesn't want to listen. He never listened as a kitten. He's always had to put himself on display and cry for attention."

 _"Dad."_ Munkustrap chided. "That's not fair. That's just who he is; he's... _exuberant._ " That's _one_ way to put it. "He's not afraid to be himself... he just has to learn _when_ and _where_ to do so." He muttered quietly.

"My boy, he's gotten into all kinds of trouble I couldn't even tell you about. I didn't want to upset you, so I never told you."

"What could he have possibly done that's so bad?"

"He vandalizes human property; scratches their cars, and windows... Much worse, he gets into fights with other strays. They claw each other up for scraps, sometimes they're left on the brink of death."

Munkustrap looked appalled. _"Jesus."_

"But don't you see?" He sat down on a pile of junk. "We have to keep an eye on him. He's stubborn. Most of all, he just goes _looking_ for trouble. It's like he _expects_ his life to not have any worth... I'll be honest with you... I always tell myself I could've done better with him... I'd _hoped_ he'd turn out better."

Neither aware of his presence, Rum Tum Tugger, with tears sitting in his eyes, slipped away from the scene. No one saw him for days.

—

Regaining consciousness, Tugger slowly opened his eyes to a blurry image. The last thing he could remember was that it was night time, but from what he could tell, the sun was coming up. How long had he been out? He'd blacked out for a mere two seconds. Where was he? Was he still at King's Road? He tried to move his head to get a better look, but _everything_ ached. His face contorted painfully and his muscles throbbed; an anguished moan escaped him as he tried to get a breath in.

"Try not to move." A voice caught his ear and a shadow cast over his blood-covered body. Tugger didn't need clear vision to identify whom it was.

 _"Pop...?"_ He rasped to the best of his ability. Indeed, Old Deuteronomy was at his side – he'd been waiting in agony for his son to show any signs of life. He laid an ear on his chest and heard a faint heartbeat. He was still fighting.

"You headstrong lion!" He sounded more thankful than angry. "Thank God!" He pat down the pillow on which he'd laid his son's limp body. He'd been on guard the whole night.

"Am I home?"

"Yes – I carried you all the way back. I don't even want to _think_ of what might've happened if I hadn't found you in time." He pushed over a water bowl. "Drink." He commanded. He helped Tugger roll over so he could get a better angle; he could only force dainty sips into his weak body. "I want to know _what_ you were thinking going into another tribe's territory." Of all the times he could lecture him, _now_ was not it! But now Tugger would be _forced_ to listen, and given how bent up he was, he'd have plenty of time to think about his actions. "Rum Tum Tugger. You answer me."

"I didn't think it'd go so far..." His chest heaved; just getting a whole sentence out was a struggle. "One got in my face and wouldn't let me explain."

"They don't _expect_ you to. When a cat's in another's territory, they're to leave at once! A Jellicle should know that."

"You never teach me a damn thing about what Jellicles should know!" He forced out.

"What was that?" Old Deuteronomy replied with tranquil aggravation. Tugger didn't have it in him to take up arms... _definitely_ not right now. "From what I saw, you wouldn't back down." Tugger said nothing. "If you'd submitted, they would've let you walk away... _why,_ Tugger, _why_ didn't you just stay down and not risk your life?" More silence. Tugger never questioned the _why_ of his actions; neither before, nor after they were committed. Old Deuteronomy sighed quietly. "Where were you for the past few days?"

"Does it matter?"

"You're my son. _Of course_ it matters. You weren't picking fights all around the city, were you?"

"Of course not, Pop." He wheezed with annoyance. "I was just... Just messing around." What on earth did _that_ mean? Old Deuteronomy questioned him. "You know. _Fooling_ around." It didn't take his father another second to figure out what he was implying. He let out an exasperated groan.

"Tugger—"

"—It was gonna happen eventually _anyway."_

"And that's why you were in... Oh for God's sake."

"How was _I_ supposed to know she was taken already? Stupid wench acted like she was a victim when her mate came running over. When I wouldn't leave, he said the only way to win someone else's mate is to fight for them."

Old Deuteronomy shot him a look of disbelief. "And you were _that_ in love with her?"

Tugger's cheeks burned with humiliation. "...No. I'd just met her." He mumbled.

"So _why_ fight?" Tugger said nothing. "Answer me." Nothing. His silence was his answer. His throat was dry. His wounds ached. Old Deuteronomy knew he'd figure it out someday, but not today. What was he even doing interrogating him _right now_? He was home. He was alive. Nothing else mattered. He rubbed his paw on Tugger's cheek. "I never want to find you like this again... understood?"

"And what if you _did?_ " Tugger spitefully replied. Old Deuteronomy didn't want to even imagine such a scenario.

"...How could I even want to live anymore if I lost one of my boys?"

His heart skipped a beat and Rum Tum Tugger managed to force his head to move so he could look into his father's eyes... at last, he recognized him again. Had he been wrong this whole time...?

 _"Tugger!"_ Another familiar voice cried. It was Munkustrap who came running over—he'd been told to keep away until morning, so he was awake all night until he saw the sun peeking over just now. That was morning enough in this situation. He'd only seen his brother being hauled back with portions of fur and skin laid bare and matted with blood. _His_ blood. Three of his ribs were broken. Munkustrap was _livid_. "Are you okay? What were you thinking?"

Tickled by his rage born from worry, Tugger couldn't help but smirk. "Good to see you too, bro."

"I've already asked him the same thing... but in so many words." Munkustrap calmed down for the time being; he nuzzled his brother's cheek, and Tugger was too weak to protest. "I need you to help take care of him. I don't know when you'll be back on your feet again, my boy."

"I'm not leaving his side." Munkustrap declared without needing a moment to think. Tenderly, Munkustrap kept watch of his younger brother; making sure he had enough water and helping him manage some soft food down his throat. For days and nights he stood guard and cleansed the cruel wounds with his own tongue and kept the insects off of them. A lot of the time, Tugger would vomit the food back up; he'd contracted something nasty from his injuries and Munkustrap's heart would burn from the idea that his brother might not survive his illness. But he had to stay strong for him. Rum Tum Tugger was a natural warrior – no word of complaint passed his lips, though the pain of his wounds was excruciating. Not even when his fever reduced him to a delirious shadow of his usual self did he fuss, though he craved nothing but water and the devoted Munkustrap would ensure he always had enough.

Tugger's head would roll and toss in his sleep from strings of fever nightmares and Munkustrap felt he had no choice but to let him sleep through them so that his body could repair, but he lied closely beside him so that he knew he was nearby when he woke. Never had Tugger seen another brother show more unselfish and sacrificing loyalty than his own did. When his fever began to abate and he commenced to mend, he'd sometimes hear Munkustrap whisper, when he thought he'd already fallen asleep, "I love you, Tiger." Tugger would mouth a noiseless reply.

After what seemed an eternity to the suffering brothers, Rum Tum Tugger was able to walk once more, and from then on his recovery was so rapid that in another month, he was as strong and active as before.


	12. Persuasion

**Rum Tum Tugger**

In his dream, he'd boarded onto a railway train that was making its way across a grassy field. On the cart, he found that other Jellicles were already aboard, some with faces he didn't recognize. The Bengal twins were arguing over a rat, and when Tugger asked where they'd got it from, they said it came from the first car. Tugger strided to the front to where he found the entire cart was full of pests and rodents. He could barely maneuver his way around them, but he noticed they were all crowding around something that was well-hidden on the floor. A cellar door.

Tugger pushed on the door until it opened and he climbed down the steps. At the very bottom, he was greeted by a scene of his father locked in a glass cage and Munkustrap waiting for his arrival. Instantly, he knew that they both needed to get him out before Macavity discovered them. But before they could get to work, Tugger saw the killer cat lurking up in the corner. He tried to scream to warn Munkustrap, but he couldn't make any noise. Nothing but a hoarse whisper no matter how aggressively and forcefully he made an effort to shout. He luckily wouldn't know what Macavity was prepared to do to his brother, because there was a noise that disturbed his sleep.

In a swift movement, Tugger lifted his head off the ground and sniffed the air. Someone was there. It wasn't his brother, nor anyone else he knew. He got onto his feet and turned around. Something was hiding behind the corner of the water tank. Tugger stared furiously until it made another sound. It didn't bother with stealth; it knew it had been spotted. A large shape came from behind the tank. "Apologies. Did I wake you?" The voice alone sent shivers through Tugger's fur, but kept his body stiff and gaze unwavering. Macavity stepped out into the light, and instinctively, Rum Tum Tugger released his claws.

"Come, now. Are we feral beasts? Or would you rather negotiate, as we cats prefer to do?" Macavity sounded _nothing_ like Tugger had ever imagined. His voice was calm and even. Deeper than his and Munkustrap's, but not like their father's. His hateful eyes followed Macavity as he came closer. "Not a talker? Funny. I thought you were _known_ for having a big mouth." He was nearly nose-to-nose with Tugger until the latter snapped his jaws at him, forcing the ginger away. He snickered. "Hot-blooded as always."

Why was he speaking as if he knew him? It was almost enough to make him wonder if this was part of his dream. Tugger wouldn't ask. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction of an answer. He had _nothing_ to say to him. He was also clever enough to realize he wouldn't tell him where Old Deuteronomy was even _if_ he asked. The red-and-black coated cat circled him; he let his tail curl around Tugger's body as he waltzed to his right.

"I would think that someone so desperate to find his father would be more interested in what I'm offering... Especially when he might not have much time left on earth."

 _Hisssssss!_

Macavity leapt to the other side of the roof and away from Tugger's vicious snarl. His fur was bristled. His ears were low. His pupils were slit and teeth were bared. He'd triggered emotions that Tugger himself didn't know he could feel. For the first time in his life, he felt threatened. Threatened by the idea that he really _could_ lose someone so close to home. Not until the danger was presented to his face was Tugger aware of it. Now he meant business. Damn it. He might have to talk after all.

Suddenly, Macavity started cackling. "For a moment, I thought I was in danger!" His guffaw echoed against the city buildings and Tugger could only feel insulted. "But I know you wouldn't kill me! Then you'd never find out where your father is." Tugger's fur receded. Yes, he had a point. But what made him think he was going to get that information so easily? He decided to let Macavity do all the talking, see what his idea of 'bargaining' was. He retracted his claws... _for now_.

 _Grrrow..._

"None of that. I'm only here to talk business. You seem like a reasonable tom." Was that a joke? Now it was Tugger who wanted to laugh. He didn't reason with creeps like him. He was ready to go straight to the eye-scratching. But he tried to stay calm. No impulses _now_. He might have something important to say... oddly enough. "As you may or may not already know, my little specimens are always on the watch. I couldn't help but feel intrigued when they reported the little slight between you and your... brother, is he?" What was he about to offer? Whatever it was, it was no deal. Nothing that possibly involved the safety of his brother. "Before you reject me," Tugger almost reacted to that. This fucker was _psychic,_ "please just hear me out." _Please?_ That was an interesting touch.

Macavity took a step closer, but kept a safe distance away—standing behind an invisible red line, if you will. "You see, I don't want to _hurt_ your father. Pft. I could've had my boys take care of that right then and there if I _really_ wanted to leave a stain on the tribe." All Tugger could think then was that Old Deuteronomy is still alive. Part of him felt like he could breathe again; the underlying anxiety of finding out his father was already dead ceased in that moment. "I just needed your brother's attention. I couldn't have gotten a word with him in private if I'd just strolled up to the gates, would I?" He arched a brow and sneered. " _You'd_ know what that's like – not being able to get his attention?" Tugger's expression broke for a split-second, but he otherwise had no definite reaction. "If he were here, I'd be having this conversation with _him_ instead, but seeing that he's so bent on killing me on sight, I thought I'd try my luck with you."

Tugger was close to demanding that he get to the point, but again, he couldn't give Macavity the pleasure of hearing him speak. His will was iron as his nerves were steel.

"We know _Old_ Deuteronomy won't be alive for much longer, even _without_ my assistance. I'm aware it's not something _any_ son would like to hear about their father, but let's both be realistic. _Your brother_ , on the other hand, has plenty more lives before his final journey to the heaviside layer. _He's_ the real problem. If I thought getting my paws on _him_ would've been easy, that would've been done cut-and-slice, and then we wouldn't even be _having_ this conversation." Tugger nearly shuddered at the thought. It made his stomach turn. "But as that isn't the case, I went for the old cat, you both went after _me_ , and here we are. Perhaps it's fate that it worked out this way."

Rum Tum Tugger didn't believe in 'fate.' No one could ever convince him there was such a thing. He was waiting to be convinced by this 'cunning cat's' sly tongue, because as of right now, he was just listening for his own amusement.

"My point is," he came a fraction closer to the Maine Coon with a confident grin, "if you were willing to, say... make amends with the silver tabby and tell him how you miraculously came across my hideaway, leading him right to me... I just might let you and your father go free. Not a scratch on either of you. All you'd be losing is the neurotic cat you call a sibling. He's not fit to lead anyway; he can't even sniff out his own father right underneath him." He was wrong. He knew nothing of the Munkustrap Rum Tum Tugger knew. No one else did. The one who was selfless and hard-working, who tired himself trying to make everyone happy. The one who gave his best effort everyday to meet his own expectations. "Oh, and one more thing. After I take care of business with your brother, your father formally inducts me into the tribe. I suppose that'll be his repayment for sparing his life."

This was enough.

"Do we have a deal?"

Tugger scanned him up and down, and then coolly replied, "I'm afraid that I'm beyond persuasion." And to _really_ seal his point, "But how about this?" He unleashed his claws once again. " _You_ tell me where my father is and I _don't_ gouge your eyes out!" He was ready to make a pounce forward and get in his face, but Macavity anticipated the attack and swiped in retaliation. His claws met Tugger's side and he howled in pain. He was forced to kneel as he pressed a paw against the three-inch slices over his ribs. He breathed through his teeth; he still had fight in him!

"Ha! I knew you were strong-willed. You never disappoint, _do you_?" Macavity circled his prey and got behind him. Before Tugger could make another move, the notorious creature dug his claws into the scruff of his neck, holding him in place. "...Or am I mistaken?" He came back around and knelt in front of Tugger, he then drew a claw across his neck and held up his chin. Macavity looked right into his emerald-green eyes, they were ablaze with loathing. Macavity was taken aback. "I know those eyes."

 _"Fuck you."_ Tugger snarled through the anguish. Macavity only grabbed harder; his claws nearly broke the skin behind Tugger's neck. He fought his very best to not cry out in pain. Just breathe. _Breathe. Breathe_.

"I really don't understand you. They say Rum Tum Tugger is a curious cat... curious you are, indeed. You love the fame and the little gaggle of fans you've got. Young queens throwing themselves at you right and left... Yet you spend so much time alone, making sure no one really gets to know you... Ah, I see now. You want them to like the _idea_ of you." Tugger tried to bite, but the slightest movement of his jaw meant he'd end up with a cat's equivalent of a blade in his throat. All he could do was glare, so he made the most of it. "I've seen you with the very same eyes you're wearing right now... You're angry. Right? You're ANGRY! But you're not angry at me... Are you angry at the world? Your father for not noticing you? Your brother for not needing you? Are you worried that once the others actually figure you out, they won't want you either?" Tugger could only react with sharp hisses of breath; he was almost tempted to take the claw to the neck if it meant shutting him up. "So which one is it? Are you a hotshot? Or are you just desperate and afraid? The more I think about it, the more alike we are than I'd suspected." Tugger could feel his heart drop to his stomach—his entire body began to shake. "In fact, we have _a lot_ more in common than you could possibly believe."

Tears sat bitterly in the Maine Coon's eyes. One even came close to escaping.

But without warning, a bolt of lightning that could only have come from God's mighty wrath itself struck inches away from the cats. Leaving a small scrape on his chin, Macavity jerked back and Tugger collapsed forward. Neither had any idea what just happened, but Macavity wasn't going to be the moron that got killed by a sudden storm. When Tugger looked back up, he saw the cat had vanished. His head felt light and he was finally able to check himself for any blood. Just a little... but what on earth—?

"Psst!" A small voice called from behind the AC unit. Tugger whirled around and out popped a cat whose fur resembled a human tuxedo. "I think I scared him off!"


	13. Beautiful

**Munkustrap**

Munkustrap was the furthest from home he'd ever been; on the outskirts of the West End and nearing Central London. They approached a large traffic island on the junction of Oxford Street and Park Lane. Munkustrap had never seen roads so wide in his life, and what he saw next stopped him in his tracks and took his breath away. "Is that a castle?" He exclaimed with awe. Demeter stopped and looked at what he was admiring. She'd seen it so many times it didn't even faze her anymore.

"No. That's called the Marble Arch." She explained. Demeter looked at him again and was charmed by his astoundment.

 _"Marble Arch..."_ A smile peeled across his face. "The humans built this?"

"Yes. A man named John Nash designed it in eighteen-twenty-seven... _much_ longer ago in human years." Munkustrap was impressed by her knowledge of history. She was giving credit where credit was due – living with people taught her a lot about their history.

"The things humans can make. The carvings and structure of it..."

Demeter grinned. "You really don't know much about the city, do you?" Was it _that_ obvious? Demeter wasn't mocking him, of course. If she'd been a stray her whole life, she wouldn't know anything either! "I bet if you saw a real castle, you'd faint."

Munkustrap gave a dry response, "And _you've_ seen one?"

She nodded with a proud smile. "I've seen my fair share of palaces... in fact, one's nearby. Follow me." She darted off ahead of him and Munkustrap followed close behind. The area around them soon changed; he was suddenly surrounded by lush greenery with sculptures at nearly every turn. The moonlight shined through the trees and there were tunnels of leaves and flowers beyond his wildest imagination. "The people call this Hyde Park. I used to take walks here when I lived in this part of town."

"It's so green." He remarked. Everything smelled new and fresh. He wondered if his father had seen anything so grand. He must've, given how long he's been around.

"It's a bit of a walk, but by the end, I'll show you Buckingham Palace."

"What's _Buckingham?_ "

"Um... some sort of Duke, I think."

"...Well, what's a _Duke?_ "

Demeter snorted and turned around. "Someone important in human families." She looked at him curiously. "I wanna ask you something."

Munkustrap raised a brow. "Ask."

"What's it mean to be a Jellicle?" Munkustrap looked totally perplexed. "That's what you call yourselves, right? Is there some kind of code or rite you all live by?"

"Well, we've been around for quite a while. My father's just reaching the end of his ninth life. He's been to the heaviside layer and back many times." Demeter looked confused. "It's where Jellicles go to be reborn into a new life... but once you've lived all nine, you stay there permanently after you die."

"What's _in_ the heaviside layer?"

Munkustrap shook his head. "Only my father knows that. We're not supposed to ask him those types of questions. But whatever it is, it's something great, and every Jellicle hopes to go there when they pass." Demeter gave him an intrigued hum in response.

"Do _you?"_

"Of course. Every Jellicle should want to."

"What do you _think_ is up there?"

Munkustrap was caught off guard and he realized he'd never actually wondered for himself. "I honestly don't know."

"Hm. Well if you could find _anything_ you wanted in the heaviside layer—anything you could wish for, what would it be?" They both took a seat and Munkustrap put some thought into it.

"Let's see... First, every day would go exactly as planned. Nothing would be off-schedule." Demeter sniggered. "What else?" Now that he'd started to daydream, he was having a ball with it. "My brother and father would put some time aside to have a real heart-to-heart chat every week. Lord knows they could use it. The Bengal twins wouldn't be such menaces to society... and things would be easier like when I was a kitten again. No expectations. No responsibilities. My worries were small and my dreams were big. And maybe my brother wouldn't think I'm such a hard-arse."

" _You?_ A hard-arse?" Demeter couldn't believe it.

"He says I'm boring and uptight. For his part, he's not entirely wrong. He tells me I worry too much—meanwhile, he doesn't worry _nearly_ as much as he should."

"He might." Demeter said knowingly. "He just might not show it as much." Munkustrap glanced at her. "I mean, it's just hard for some people to emote. Some people prefer actions over words... When I left home, I couldn't _use_ words with my humans, yet I knew I had to leave for their baby's sake. It was the hardest decision I'd ever made at that point, but I knew it'd be better for them. When it was done, I didn't cry. I fought hard to not go back... but it hurt."

"Did being with Macavity feel right?" The tom was asking out of his own want to understand and not to spite her. Demeter's heart sank and she lowered her ears.

"At first... but as time went on, I started... _seeing_ things I wish I hadn't been involved with. Macavity would bring in prisoners and..." She licked her lips, she took a moment to clear her mind. "It was brutal. Even when I told him they'd had enough, he'd say that it was 'strictly business.'" Her eyes dulled sadly. "Well, when I finally decided I wouldn't have any part of his life anymore, I knew he wouldn't just let me walk out so easily. He wanted me to have his kittens... for a cold-hearted criminal, he was really bent on having a litter of his own. Every week, we'd try and try – believe it or not, he'd always ask for my consent before."

"Humph. He has standards after all?"

"I suppose _everyone_ does." Demeter rolled her eyes. The conversation was cut short when a soothing light beckoned them. The cloudy skies were clearing and the moon was high in the sky, marking midnight. It was big tonight. Demeter appeared hypnotized. She stood up and walked towards it. "Wow..." She breathed. _"Beautiful."_

"Yes. Yes, it is."

Demeter turned around and looked into his icy blue eyes; they were majestic and pure in the night light. He looked at her and they both seemed to have the same idea. Munkustrap approached her, gently offered his paw. Demeter smiled softly and accepted. After all, wasn't the timing right? The stars were twinkling, the crickets were singing, and the Jellicle Moon was shining bright. They _needed_ to. Munkustrap took her in full swing and each and every move and touch between them came naturally and without fail. Munkustrap had always been taught to remain coy and demure when courting a queen, but tonight he couldn't be. It was clear on his nervous, unassuming face that he was smitten, and Demeter was not unaware.

They danced across the green and arrived to the edge of the lake, where the moon's light reflected in broken shapes. It illuminated their twirling silhouettes, twisting and bending to each other's will. They were slaves to the moon's commands.

Demeter performed an elegant spin and it seemed their dance was about to come to an end... but neither wanted it to. She turned around and looked through his eyes. Not into them, through them, staring right into his soul to confirm that they shared the same desires. Munkustrap's face felt hot, and when she came close again, she nuzzled under his chin. Afraid, he inched past her... this wasn't what he was meant to do. He was supposed to pair off with a single queen from the tribe... but as of right now, his own wants were denying what he felt he was _supposed_ to do. Demeter approached him again, hesitantly reached for his paw, and Munkustrap flinched.

When he turned around and saw Demeter's honest expression, he understood what she meant by doing what _felt_ right. Going against all his old beliefs and expectations, Munkustrap folded his arms around her and they nuzzled each other's warm faces; she pressed gentle kisses on his lips. Pulling away, Demeter gripped his paw and smoothed it against her cheek – craving his touch. A touch she'd wanted since the moment she laid eyes on him. From the beginning, she'd somehow known it would be _him_ to envelop her with his love, as she would in return. His heart throbbed and Munkustrap made a gentle stroke over her chest, going over her breasts and belly. The softness of her body invoked feelings in him he never thought himself capable of discovering, and not once did Demeter object. He held her close for a deep, uninterrupted kiss. Something inside Munkustrap grew and expanded, something that his father would forbid if he ever dared mention it; mating was a necessity, not for passion... but he was wrong.

No endeavor Munkustrap's brother had described to him could ever live up to the astronomical emotions he was feeling right now. Naturally, out came their sexes, right where they needed to be, and Demeter pulled him inside of her. Their movements took on a more frenetic quality, and their hips twitched in an unmistakable way. Finally, he is dancing, truly dancing, across a moonlit ballroom made of the sky and stars. Waltzing through galaxies and past the planets, fearing no misstep, for his partner has got him tight and will lead him anyplace he needs to go. Munkustrap smiled as his eyes filled with moonlight.

* * *

 **Mr. Mistoffelees**

After countless hours of waiting, hiding from short distances away, and calculating when the right time would be to reveal himself, Mistoffelees at last found himself in the presence of the Maine Coon, Rum Tum Tugger. He was hurt. He had three gashes on his side that would only take a few days to mend, but this was a strong cat that could cut past any minor injury. He didn't even _twitch_ at the large ginger cat's ruthless words, although he could tell he'd gotten under the Jellicle's skin. As of right now, all Tugger seemed to be concerned about was just _who_ was this cat scuttling closer?

"Did... Did _you_ just... make... lightning?" The absolutely mystified cat could hardly get his sentence correct.

"Um... technically, yes. But I made sure that it looked like it came from the clouds and not my paws. If I'd shot from where I was crouching, I might've accidentally hit—"

"Buddy, slow down!" He took his paw off his cuts for a brief moment, only to instantly have to cover them again. He winced in pain. "How on bloody earth did you do that?"

"I... don't know." Mistoffelees admitted. "It's something I've been able to do since I was a kitten. I never really questioned _how_. I just _can_."

Tugger blinked. He didn't have any desire to get into this mystery right now. "All right..." He wiped the blood from his fur.

"Oh! I can help with that." He came closer and Tugger recoiled slightly.

"No, I don't think you need to—"

"This'll just take a second." Mistoffelees gave him no choice and he put his paw over the wounds. There was an uneasy, tingling sensation.

He shuddered. "Ah! Okay! That's a little..." Tugger didn't finish; he had no idea how to react. When Mistoffelees took his paw off, he smiled brightly and waited for the Jellicle to check... gone! No cuts, some dried blood, but the tears in his skin had vanished. His mouth was agape, all words of his native language escaped him and he could only point confusedly. Once again enough for him to debate if he was still dreaming. If his scratch hadn't hurt so much, he just might believe it.

"That's how I've managed to make it this far without any V-E-T-S treating me."

"I'm sorry?"

"The V-E-T-S are things that take animals and—"

"V... E..."

"V-E-T-S."

Tugger's head hurt. "I'm dyslexic—can't you just say it?"

"Never mind." Saying it bothered him too much. He was jittery just thinking about it. Tugger looked at him oddly, but didn't care all that much. "What did he want with you, by the way? That cat?"

"Oh. Pfft. He's a pile of garbage. I'm not associated with him."

"But he came to you for a reason. He said something about a father and a brother."

Rum Tum Tugger sighed; he was still processing all he'd just been through emotionally. "It's nothing. Thanks for your help, by the way." He tugged on his vest and fixed his belt. He might've gotten an hour of sleep at most, but after all this, it was time to get a move on.

"Hey! Where're you going?"

"I have to look for my brother." Tugger jumped onto the fire escape. "There's no way he can get rid of Macavity on his own. I can't let him find him before _I_ do." The tuxedo cat raced up to his side.

"Let me go with you!"

 _"What?"_ Mistoffelees looked incredibly sure of his decision. "Buddy, I'm sure you've been able to handle a lot on your own, but I don't want to involve you in something that could get you killed... and you haven't brought anything back from the dead yet, have you?"

"Not _yet_..." Mistoffelees grumbled. Tugger started down the steps, but Mistoffelees hurried to block his way. "Mister... _Tugger_ , is it? I'm determined that you'll find my skills _very_ useful on this journey!" As he went on, Tugger scooched past him and quickly proceeded to ground-level. Once he was, something lurched out from the corner of the building that made the Maine Coon yelp in shock. Mr. Mistoffelees continued his sentence where he'd left off, "...and I've also perfected my skills in teleportation."

 _"How did—? What—?"_

"This came in handy when I was planning my escape from the bad place." Tugger looked exasperated, but in reality, he was just tired and anxious. Mistoffelees had bright, innocent, brown doe eyes... too innocent. Tugger didn't want to ruin that so quickly... but he knew nothing about what this young cat had already seen.

"Kid, I..." But then he thought about it. This teenager just sent _Macavity_ of all cats running! Perhaps it might be practical to have a buddy at his side after all... Whether his powers were bollocks or not, he'd done _something_ to scare him off, and he knew what he was talking about. Tugger smirked. "All right. Partners." Mr. Mistoffelees was close to squealing with delight when he said that; instead, he shook his paw and walked coolly at the Maine Coon's side, just as he'd always imagined, down the dark sidewalk.


	14. Resolution

**Munkustrap**

Only seconds after their dalliance did the clouds cover the moon again. The curtains closed the stage. Demeter rested her head on Munkustrap's lap; he lovingly stroked her face as she slept. He was still weary, but he couldn't risk letting his guard down while he had someone so precious beside him... especially when they were this close to wherever Macavity may be. The slight stirs she made in her rest was a reminder that he had to stay alert. The way she gently curled up to him evoked memories of young Tugger slipping into his arms when the little kit was afraid at night. He recalled that sometimes waking to find his kitten brother so close by was a relief whenever he dreamed about something terrible happening to him.

He thought about a particularly vivid one he'd had when he himself was just a kitten and Tugger could still barely crawl; one of his brother being captured by humans. He had no idea where the dream came from, and was mortified upon waking, but he didn't even have to turn a full angle to spot Tugger lying peacefully next to him. In fact, he was still at the age where Old Deuteronomy kept him wrapped against his chest when they slept. Nothing was getting near him.

He was experiencing a similar kind of love for Demeter. A desire to protect and sacrifice. While the other toms had thought of Demeter as suspicious and inscrutable, Munkustrap was the first to know that she was a kind and beautiful queen with an enormous capacity to show love and affection. He fought the urge to sleep. Any time he felt his head slipping, he'd jerk it back up and shake himself a little. Of all the times his body would give in to his exhaustion – mental, physical, _and_ emotional – it mustn't happen now. But he was still recovering from the most monumental pleasure he'd ever experienced. His lids were drooping and his breathing was taking a more steady, calm pace.

His beginning-to-dream mind presented an image of his home. He wouldn't be able to explore much more because the picture broke apart and darkened when something began shaking him.

 _"Munkustrap."_

Eyes rolling open, Munkustrap crawled out of his half-sleep. He'd slumped over slightly and so he pushed himself off the ground. "Hm? What?" Bleary-eyed, he saw Demeter was crouched low in a defensive stance.

"I heard something."

Immediately, he forced himself up and he took her shoulders, scanning the area with dark, slit eyes. Nudging Demeter behind him, Munkustrap kept one paw grasped onto her arm. He suddenly recollected his nightmare from before—he wouldn't make his attacks easy to counter. He had to make sure he could catch Macavity from _whatever_ direction he emerged from. Munkustrap wouldn't risk Demeter losing a single hair to the fiend. She slipped away from his hold and scampered quietly around; she was more familiar with Macavity's scent than Munkustrap was. She made it her responsibility to identify him.

Her heart skipped a beat; her fur stood on end. Her lips formed the dreaded name but before she could make a sound, the devil in a red and black coat seized her wrist. Moving at a blinding speed, Munkustrap threw an arm at Macavity as if the gesture alone would release Demeter. But it was she who swung her claws at his face and was knocked back from the sheer force of her own tug. It provided the perfect opening for Munkustrap to strike.

Claws unsheathed, he stood between his beloved and the hateful thief that had his father.

"My, oh my!" Macavity recovered with a smirk. "I see you've still got spirit, my lioness." He purred loudly and Demeter spitefully turned her head away. With a glare of stone-cold abhorrence, Munkustrap spread his arms out and shielded her from Macavity. If she was the palace, then he would be the gates. "I suppose you and I need to have a little chat, don't we?"

"Where's my father?" He growled.

"Right to the point, eh?" He looked over Munkustrap's shoulder to see Demeter coming close again. She stared with equal intensity. "Relax. I just want to talk. It's strictly business... though I admit I'm a bit surprised to find _you_ here, Demeter."

"You leave her out of this." Munkustrap demanded, but she came around his side, staying within arms reach more for _his_ sake than her own. She had claws and fangs too.

"Macavity," she said with ice in her voice, "what did you do?" Her voice was suddenly _powerful_. A low bellow of courage born from newfound love. She put the pieces together and realized how personal his crime had been—no question as to why Munkustrap had so strong a need to find him. "What do you want with his tribe?"

"You speak as if you're one of them now. First the humans, then _me_... You just have to belong _somewhere_ , don't you?" He went to stroke her face, but she hissed and he retracted his paw. Even _he_ knew when to take a warning. "I've missed you." He said. Neither Munkustrap nor Demeter could measure the amount of sincerity his words actually held, but they fell on deaf ears. They were meaningless now. "What's it like out on those streets? I _told_ you it's a tough world to get by."

"And I told _you_ purebreds know how to take care of themselves." She said to slight him. And it worked. She knew all the right buttons to push; she'd learned well in her time with him. "You're going to answer my question, and you're going to explain yourself _right now_." Munkustrap's gaze hadn't broken once; he was still growling lowly. He was shaking just from holding back his desire to skin him alive. His years of practicing self-restraint were paying off after all. Demeter looked at Munkustrap, making sure he was all right, then hatefully back at Macavity.

"As I said, I'm here to talk with the brooding Jellicle behind you. You're welcome to listen, if you're so inclined." Demeter once again turned to Munkustrap. They silently communicated what his choice would be. Something told Demeter he'd _have_ to hear him out, but she didn't know if Munkustrap would be willing, given the circumstance. If she knew _anything_ about her old mate, it was that he was a negotiator first and foremost—violence was his _second_ tactic... and he ended up having to resort to Plan B more often than not. She hoped that this wouldn't be the case; she put all her faith in the Egyptian Mau and stepped aside. She looked at him reassuringly.

Munkustrap trusted her, so he'd go with what she deemed to be the better option. He let Macavity take a single step closer, but no more than that. His hardened glare had yet to move. It was difficult looking at the creature that viciously took someone he loved so dearly and somehow keeping a straight face. His only comfort was knowing that Demeter had migrated behind him—if Macavity wanted to get to her, he'd have to tear through him limb from limb first.

"You made yourself direct and clear; you just want your father back. And all I want is a place in the tribe." Munkustrap grimaced and Demeter herself made a baffled gesture. "Tsh. Don't think it's for sentimental reasons. I suppose you're the type that likes easy instructions. No bullshit, right?" No answer. His silence was invitation enough. Macavity now saw the family resemblance! Both brothers were stubborn wretches. "I'll make it simple, then. Your father makes me part of the tribe... then I want _you_ to relinquish your place on the throne, and walk far, _far_ away from this city. If you're willing to do that, then your old cat gets to go home without a scratch. He'll go to the heaviside layer one last time on his _own_ accord, and not by my claw."

Demeter was about to speak out _for_ Munkustrap, hardly able to contain herself, but she saw that he was deliberating something in his head. Something that didn't make any sense. "What would you gain from _me_ leaving? You stole my father just to get me all the way out here and demand that I leave? There's something you're not telling me." He accused.

 _"Smart_ lad!" Macavity praised without a hint of sarcasm. Of course, that's just what he'd _hoped_ Munkustrap would conclude. And he nailed every single line of the script. "No wonder your father loves you best!" He licked his lips and something sinister twinkled in his eye. "It's a shame about your brother."

And now, anyone watching could swear they saw Munkustrap's eyes flash red as he pounced on top of Macavity. Demeter cried his name, but all Munkustrap cared about was getting his claws into his throat.

 _"What'd you do to my brother?"_ He snarled menacingly – flecks of spit flew from his lip. Demeter almost took his shoulders in a pointless attempt to tame him, but she knew to stay back when two toms were aggressive. It would only lead her to a crossfire. The mystery cat showed no hint of concern, although his life _truly was_ in jeopardy. He knew, however, that his life was still sacred. They needed him to ensure that their father lived.

"Relax! All I meant was that it's a shame he's not as valuable as you are. I'd even say he's... _twice_ as expendable."

 _No... Not Tugger. Not after he'd said... No, please GOD NO!_

In that instant, Munkustrap knew nothing but the frenzy that made a mother jump in front of a bullet for her children. He lashed his claws out at Macavity with enough force to knock his head aside. He left four, deep scratches in his face.

Both toms released drawn-out, violent screeches in their throats as they challenged each other. Macavity's slashing claws carried him forward and he struck the side of the Mau's neck with equal fury. Running on pure adrenaline fueled by the devotion to his brother, Munkustrap latched onto him with his claws digging into both sides of the atrocity of a beast. It was enough to make _Macavity_ yowl. They went rolling and twisting and bleeding and shrieking.

Macavity had underestimated him, he'd admit, but this was only to see how much of a fight he could put up. Macavity sank his teeth into Munkustrap's cheek and the latter was baited into shoving away as a result. Now that he had some distance, Macavity grabbed and then threw Munkustrap across the green. Demeter reached him before Macavity could. She stood over Munkustrap, but she was shoved aside. It made no difference to Macavity whether the she-cat ended up scathed or not; his prey was the silver tom. Munkustrap lurched forward, but all he earned were claws plunged into his stomach. Not deep enough to strike his vitals, but enough to send him into an agonized paralysis.

Now pushed to her breaking point, Demeter lunged at Macavity and swiped, but she narrowly missed. Munkustrap was left gagging, nearly choking on his own saliva. By the time he regained composure, he saw Macavity's claws hurling towards his face and then he only knew darkness.

—

As if waking from a nightmare, Munkustrap jerked back into consciousness and his eyes darted left and right... Macavity was gone. And to his horror, so was Demeter. He was bleeding, his head was throbbing, his entire body shuddered. _"Demeter."_ He tried to call, but all that came out was a breathless whisper. His torso and cheek were grazed, his heart was pounding far beyond its normal rate and patches of fur were raked off, exposing abrazed skin. He took two steps before falling forward again. The pain was unbearable; he was reduced to curling up in the grass and breathing ruggedly. He licked what wounds he could, but just to move his body to reach them was anguish.

 _Demeter_. Was she all right? What would Macavity do to her now that he found the one who betrayed him? He had to find her. He had to find her and his father before it was too late. With one paw over his wound and another pulling him forward, he tried to crawl his way out of the park, navigating through the darkness and dragging his limp body as far as he could before it became too much and he dropped himself. He closed his eyes. The faces of those he loved appeared before him. Demeter. Old Deuteronomy. Tugger. Alonzo. Jennyanydots. The kittens. His tribe. He couldn't fail them after making it this far. Yes, it was a struggle, but he was close now. He just needed to stand.

He released his wound and let out harsh grunts as he attempted to get to all-fours. His body fought him, but he would fight harder. He used the names of his loved ones as his guidance. He knew that even the Bengal twins would rush to his side to help him walk if they were there. But they wouldn't have to. He'd make it back on his own. He heard thunder again. If it rained, then the water would clean his cuts and hydrate him. But it would seem the weather just wanted to taunt him some more. Mock him.

His aches mocked him. His inability to see mocked him. The tears in his eyes mocked him. Why did he keep fooling himself? What comes after this? He knew deep inside that he was ready to collapse and scream for help to which no one would answer. He was an imbecile to believe he could actually succeed. A cat who knew nothing beyond what he grew up with in his homestead sending himself on a rescue mission. Everything he thought would go wrong _went_ wrong... so what did that mean for the future that he doubted would be full of prosper? What did it mean for his subjects?

...What did it mean if he _didn't_ come back?

Gritting his teeth, Munkustrap took a sharp breath in and let out a groan of pain as he pulled himself farther and farther away from where he'd been incapacitated. He wouldn't waste any more time. No melancholy. No resignation. Not yet.

Not yet. Not yet. Not yet... Not yet... Not... yet...

 _...Not..._

 _...Yet..._


	15. Revelation

**Mr. Mistoffelees**

"What's with the bowtie, by the way?" Rum Tum Tugger gestured to Mistoffelees' all-black collar, which over his white neck tied into a ribbon in the front.

"Bowties are cool. They indicate sophistication. And magicians wear them, which I myself am!" He said as he readjusted it. Tugger looked rather endeared.

"Whatever floats your boat."

"Well, I'd like to ask _you_ a question. What's with the belt? And the garter? And those spikes on your collar?"

"I guess you can say I like to accessorize more than most Jellicles." He dryly replied. Tugger hopped to the top of a fence to get a better view of their surroundings. Mistoffelees wasn't very athletic, so instead of a single leap to the top, he had to climb the chains to hobble up next to him.

"So... what's your brother look like?"

"Gray fur, black stripes, probably has an irritated look on his face."

"...Descriptive." Already did Mr. Mistoffelees feel comfortable enough to air sarcasm to the rebel cat.

Tugger sniffled. "I can probably sniff him out. I've known his scent from the moment I was born. But right now I'm not getting shit." He hopped down and Mistoffelees hustled to keep up with his quick-paced scampering.

"If he's looking for that red cat, do you think he'd be around wherever... _he_ is?"

"Beats me. Neither of us know where the bugger is."

That statement bewildered Mistoffelees. "Then how the Hell did you expect to find him in the first place?"

"We're looking for our _dad_. We couldn't care less about whether Macavity's there or not... all that matters is we find our pop alive." Mistoffelees gave him an astonished look—the very idea of having someone he loved in jeopardy. He could scarcely imagine the feeling. But Mistoffelees had never before had anyone he thought he 'loved.' Not the way a son loved a father, at least. He nevertheless tried to comprehend the idea for Tugger's sake. And what better way to understand than to ask questions?

"Is your father a good cat?"

"Of course. I wouldn't be out here risking my first or second life for just anyone."

"You love him, then?" Tugger turned around; was he _really_ asking him this? "What?"

"That's kind of a ridiculous question, don't you think? Do you love _your_ father?"

"I never knew my father." He saw Tugger's eyes dim and his heart sink. He looked mortified and immediately tried to apologize... to the best of his ability.

"Oh my God—I... er— I'm..."

"There's no problem. I don't know _anything_ about him, to be honest. Although I wonder if he had any magic in him... it had to've come from _somebody_ in the family, right?" Tugger supposed so. "I'm kind of like you, a loner. Y'know?" That was when Tugger tried his hardest not to laugh. "What's the smile for?"

'I'm no loner, kid. I like to go my own way, but I'm rarely by myself." Mistoffelees sheepishly bent his ears back. "But now that you mention it, I don't recall seeing you around. What's a youngster like yourself do for fun?" He asked as though he were ancient. Tugger was a young adult in human years as Mistoffelees was a teenager. That was kitten enough to him.

"Um..." He wasn't ready for that enquiry. Tugger decided to give him some leeway.

"You impress any ladies with those tricks of yours?"

"Oh, um. Not really..." He twiddled his paws. "I _do_ work on my illusions and conjurations as much as I can. Sometimes I forget to sleep... and eat." Right on cue, his stomach gurgled. As always, Mistoffelees hardly noticed. "But point is, I make the most of my mind, since it's _constantly_ coming up with new ideas that need to be implemented. Heck, they're so clever, sometimes _I_ don't even know what I'm trying to achieve." There was a silent moment between them. Tugger honestly had no idea _how_ to reply. But this kid had a passion, and it was his own. He shouldn't make him feel like his talents weren't valid. He smirked and nodded.

 _"Nice."_ He saw the young cat's eyes light up joyously. He knew he'd just made his night, if not his entire week. Strangely, it warmed the flirtatious tom's heart. As nice as it was to receive approbation, it felt pretty good to give it where it was due. Their brief bonding session was short-lived, because Tugger caught a waft of something that knocked him back on his heels. Blood. "You smell that?" Mistoffelees held his head up and sniffed around. Indeed, the rusty odor that made cats and humans alike shiver. They trailed after it.

It brought them to a grassy park where they saw a misshapen shadow hauling itself across the dirt. The underlying scent was one that made all the blood drain from Tugger's face. His eyes bulged and he charged towards it without warning Mistoffelees. "Bro? _Oh my God,_ _bro!"_ Fright and guilt tore through his voice at once—he raced towards the shape and rolled it onto its back. Tugger could barely speak, let alone figure out which wound to put pressure on. They _all_ looked deadly. Mistoffelees was no less shocked when he saw a nearly-disfigured tabby cat.

The tom that Tugger was despairing over had lost a lot of blood; not only could he smell it, but Mistoffelees could tell just from his mannerisms. Delirious.

 _"What... what's...?"_

Tugger could feel his heart in his throat. Did he really not recognize him? "It's me. It's Tugger!"

"Tugger... thank God..." He was ventilating too much; he'd wind up collapsing _much_ faster if he didn't calm down. Mistoffelees silently noted this as he watched the two. It was remarkable seeing how two creatures that loved each other so much behaved when the other was in peril. "I'm... so... happy you're okay."

"I can't see..." Tugger got in close to inspect the wounds. He suckled the tears in his skin and spit out the dirt and grime that could infect them. Repeat. He did this until he was sure they were sanitized. He could hear Munkustrap's breathing slow. "No, brother! You have to stay with me." Darkness was shrouding the Mau's vision; he was seeing flashing lights caused from dearth of oxygen. _"Stay with me."_ Tugger listened to his chest; his heart was beating well. He licked off the excess blood from his fur.

"I can do my—"

"No. Not until I clean them!" Already Tugger and Mistoffelees were working like a team, but one was well-aware of what could happen if he let anything foreign enter his body before it could heal. Munkustrap was shaking; his face contorted in agony. He whimpered like a maimed dog. Tugger stopped and took his cheek. "Shh. Ssshh. I'm here." He remembered being in the very same position. He knew all the things he'd wanted to be told when he was left unable to pick himself off the asphalt and bleeding profusely. Munkustrap wouldn't be alone like he had been. He saw Munkustrap's eyes falling and his body going still. "No. No, no!" He said in a near-demanding tone. "Stay awake." He pleaded with as much dignity as he could. Munkustrap's eyes started to roll back and his lids closed; his head slumped to the side. Tugger's paws shook. "No. _Nonononono_. Bro." He tapped his face, _"Wake up."_ He felt for his heart again. Still beating. "Wake up!" Tugger nuzzled his face as he choked back the tidal wave of emotions engulfing him. Stay calm. He's still alive! He checked his wounds one more time. "Y-you! Kid! Do that thing you did!" Any coherent sentence was beyond him now.

Mistoffelees leapt into action. He went for the first abrasion he saw and pressed his glowing paw against it. It made the Mau twitch slightly, showing he was gripping onto consciousness by a thread. Tugger moved the fur out of the way to make sure Mistoffelees got perfect precision. "Don't worry. I got him." Mistoffelees tried to reassure him. He was so focused on his task that his tone came off rather deadpan. Tugger didn't even notice; he was holding his own breath as it was. Mistoffelees was amazed to witness such a sight and wondered if one day anyone would mourn for him the way a tom would for his brother should this happen. But that wasn't important now. He moved onto the cuts across his stomach. They weren't deep, but they were long and thin. He was going to have some unsightly keloid scars, but at least his fur would cover them when it grew back. The tissue would deflate eventually. Mistoffelees had earned himself enough scratches to have such knowledge.

"I'm here." Tugger restated softly. He was never leaving him again. He left him for less than a full night and look at what happened. He could've stopped this. He put his face to his brother's chest, swelling back a sob. He was muttering something that Mistoffelees almost missed. _"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."_

—

Mistoffelees assisted in carrying Munkustrap to a secluded area where he could recover. He had yet to wake. Tugger didn't once peel his eyes away from his brother's dormant body; the only movements he'd make were to put a paw on his chest and check for a heartbeat. Mistoffelees took the liberty of creating a makeshift bowl from tossed-out paper plates and collected puddle water for the tabby to drink once he was up. He cleaned out the gnats and leaves from the water. Upon returning, he saw Tugger licking off dried blood on Munkustrap's fur. He kept finding more every time he looked. Not even with any other she-cat the Maine Coon had lusted over, and given all of his erotic passion, did Mistoffelees see such tender affection in his eyes. The tuxedo tom presented the dish to him, "How's this?"

Tugger inspected the half-filled bowl. "Looks good." Mistoffelees could tell from his voice that he was drained; he'd experienced too many emotions in too short a span of time for him to handle. He was only used to letting them sit for short doses at a time.

"You think it was the red cat?"

"Who else would've done this?"

"...What's he want with the two of you?" He inquired. "You said he's got your father. And from the looks of it, he did quite a number on your brother. It looks like it was personal."

"I wouldn't care even if it _wasn't_. I'll kill him when I see him." Tugger hissed. Mistoffelees didn't doubt this one bit. He was still hatching a hypothesis.

"The other night was the Jellicle Ball, right? Something special you guys all do... of all the nights he wanted to strike."

"He made it clear that he wanted to get our attention; he sure as Hell _did_." His skin still itched from Macavity's words to him. _We have a lot more in common than you could possibly believe._ He couldn't shake it from the back of his mind. It made his hair stand on end. He's not sure _what_ , but it meant something that he couldn't grasp right away.

"There's nothing else? If you guys have one every year and this was all planned, what made _this_ year special?"

"Kid, I'm not in the mood for theorizing."

"Just bear with me for a second." His mind was spiraling, in need of more facts. "You know more than I do—did you guys have anything else coming up?"

 _"Christ..._ it was supposed to be Pop's final ball as Patriarch. Macavity pretty much said to my face he wanted my brother and father out of the picture so he could have the tribe. How the fuck he intends to take it from our cold, dead claws, I don't know."

"Hmph. I'd kept thinking that the timing felt too deliberate... You think he knows your father?"

"My father knew of _him_. That's about all I can say." He rubbed his eyes; they now had dark lines from exhaustion. Oblivious to his grumpy mood, Mistoffelees sprung another question at him.

"Wouldn't _you_ lead the tribe if anything happened to your brother?"

"I don't even think about those things... Nothing's gonna happen to my brother... not again." His voice hushed as he put a tentative paw over his heart again. Still beating. Tugger sighed with respite.

Seeing this inspired Mistoffelees to share with Rum Tum Tugger, a tom he'd known for less than a day, a story he got to tell no one in his sixteen years of life. "...I had brothers and sisters when I was born... I was the youngest of eight." Tugger looked at him to show he was listening. "Evidently I was the..." he tried to say it in full for Tugger's comprehension... R-U-N-T. But it was a human word. He hated human words. He had to try. "The..." He licked his lip, but he was already shivering. "I was the smallest one... usually kittens like me are likely to die before they're _my_ age." He snorted. "It's funny... because I'm the only one left." Tugger reacted, actually showing some sympathy in his eyes. "Last year's blizzard is what killed them off... in fact, when I was found, I was still frozen. _That_ part I don't remember, but I'd hear the... _them_ say it." He braced himself; now that he'd _started_ the story, he couldn't just leave off there. "For a long... _long_ time, I was in a place I call the bad place... it was dark, walls on all sides with absolutely _no_ room to walk... I'd yell for someone to open the door but no one could ever hear me... and when someone _did_ take me out, it was to put me on a table and just look at me. Some stuff as fine – they just wanted to make sure I wasn't hurt and that I was growing okay. But to do that they had to pull out my legs and arms and measure me." His lip twitched and a painful memory flashed behind his eyes. "I remember once, though, that they tried cutting my claws... not trim them down... actually _take_ them away."

Tugger grimaced; he couldn't imagine an act so cruel.

"Naturally, I kept fighting back. No matter how many of them tried to pin me down, I'd squirm, I'd hiss, I'd bite... I got as far as actually hopping off the table, but they'd closed the door, so I couldn't even go anywhere." He shuddered and put his paws over his ears.

"Kid?"

Mistoffelees came out of his memory, only saved by the Maine Coon's voice. His eyes were watery and his paws were jittery. Something else had happened, and Tugger could tell. He wouldn't dare ask _what_ if it had made him so tense. But Mistoffelees was grateful to have let some of it out... at last, someone besides himself knew... one day he'd tell him the rest when he felt safer.

Munkustrap's chest rose up and down, taking deeper breaths and Tugger jumped out of his position and picked his brother's head up. _"Bro?"_ He took his paw and watched as his eyes slowly opened. Tugger felt like he could actually breathe again. It had only been a few minutes since he'd fainted, but it felt like an eternity to the younger tom. It was rare that the rockstar would ever let anyone witness him performing such a gesture, but in all bluntness, he didn't give a fuck. He held Munkustrap close and pressed his head on his shoulder. The tabby's eyes were still adjusting to the darkness; he didn't recognize his surroundings, but he knew whom he was with. Nothing else mattered. His body was sore and he could barely sit up on his own.

"You okay, Tiger?"

How long has it been since he called him _that?_ Tugger pulled away with a subtle grin on his face, but a smile on his eyes. "Funny that _you're_ asking that."

Munkustrap was surprised by how quickly his body managed to recover... in fact, it should be impossible that he felt this way! He turned to his right and saw the mysterious teenager with them. "Who's this?"

"Oh, this is... um..." His name had escaped him.

"Mister Mistoffelees, the Original Conjuring Cat!" He took a dramatic bow and Munkustrap winced.

"He's the reason you're still alive. He healed all your cuts."

"All my—?" He felt around his fur. Indeed, not a scratch in sight. Yes, patches of fur had been raked off and he had scarring... but no more bleeding. The anguish was reduced significantly as well. Mistoffelees gave him a sly grin, well-aware he was shocked out of his own skin.

Tugger smirked. "He just joined the party and he's _already_ doing a better job at survival than we are." Mistoffelees was nearly blushing. He wasn't _all_ to credit for rescuing Munkustrap, but the fact the Maine Coon he'd been wishing to emulate was giving him so much praise meant almost everything! Munkustrap didn't know how they expected him to just take their word for it... but his brother had seen it for himself, so there must be _some_ truth. He wouldn't question the miraculous results; they needed to get back in action.

"Did you see Macavity at all?"

Tugger scowled. "No. But I'm gonna skin that bastard and make a jacket out of him when I do."

"Well, we _did_ , but that was before we found you."

Munkustrap pricked up. "Did he say where our father was?" Tugger didn't answer right away; the words swam through his mind again. _We have a lot more in common than you could possibly believe._ "Tugger?"

"No..." His voice trailed off, which was a little troubling for his brother, but not enough to stir him away from his need of a direct answer.

"You there, Mistoffelees. What do you know about Macavity?"

"Um... about as much as you two... maybe less?"

 _Perfect_. Back to square one. Only _two_ lives were at stake now. "Damn it!"

Tugger suddenly spoke up. "I know Pop's alive." Munkustrap's eyes lit up hopefully. "He said he needed him alive so he could take care of business... there was something about how we can't even sniff him out right underneath us." He relayed this cryptic statement right as he was remembering it.

"We looked in almost every storm drain and manhole in the West End. No scent."

"Underneath..." Mistoffelees was thinking aloud. "Underground..."

Underground. And at once, it hit all three of them. They exclaimed in unison: _"The Tube!"_


	16. Illusion

**Demeter**

To this day, Demeter could clearly remember the first time she laid eyes on Macavity. She'd never even seen such a cat in her life; coat unkempt and matted from neglect, but he looked more like a wanderer than a scoundrel. An adventurer. She didn't look any better at the time, of course. She'd been on her own for two weeks, and she was far from the prim and well-washed house cat she used to be.

Her fur was soaked from gutter water that she used to bathe and get a drink; it stuck to her thinning body and her limbs were shaky from hunger. Her yellow-green eyes were dark from trouble sleeping. Demeter was shivering from the cold air; her past few sleeping spots were the back lots of bakeries or coffee shops just to feel the heat of the steam coming from the kitchens. They were short-lived, because if they saw her waiting to eat up the tossed-out leftovers, they'd shoo her away with a mop. If they were just going to throw them away, then what was the big deal?

She was always back in the morning, however, and she was normally pressed for time since a morning garbage truck would be stealing Demeter's only hope for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. She was hopeless when trying to catch a bird, and rabbits were absolutely out of the question. No way could she catch one. Rats and mice were frequent and easy to come by, but they hardly provided enough sustenance to get her through the day. Things would get better once she adapted—she kept reminding herself that there must be a struggle before the happy ending. The girl's tapes had taught her this. She would sing the songs to herself if she had the energy; it was all she had to lift her spirits.

 _No matter how your heart is grieving_  
 _If you keep on believing_  
 _The dream that you wish will come true_

And in her sweet dreams, Demeter would rub her head in the palm of her humans. She'd jump into their waiting arms and shower them with kisses. Even the baby, whose life was threatened by her very presence, could be touched by her and not have any repercussions; she nuzzled his chubby face with love and warmth. Unfortunately, that wasn't the dream she could focus on. She had to look _forward_. She had not been prepared for the harshness of the real world; to have humans treat her as a menace and call her 'vermin.' Some were kind and willing to give her neck rubs, much like _her_ humans once did. And if she got _really_ lucky, she'd come across customers at an outdoor diner and they'd throw her some scraps – usually some chips or unwanted appetizers. She would take whatever she could get if it meant not starving to death.

Demeter wanted to be independent, but she still needed _some_ sort of mentor to get her through the trial period. She didn't need a hero... just a friend. A supporter. At one point she found herself almost so desperate as to try _talking_ to some of the mice that hung around the storm drains... none were exactly up to have a conversation with a cat, which she supposed was understandable. Demeter would feel the same way about a dog that looked as disorderly as she did.

That's why she was so baffled, even flattered, when a scruffy-looking tom approached her during her morning dumpster dive.

"What's a tiny thing like you doing trying to climb that behemoth of a container?" Demeter felt her cheeks go hot and she felt her grip slip. Her claws saved from from toppling over and further embarrassing herself. Macavity had not meant it to be condescending; he was simply curious! Demeter hid her face behind her tail. "I thought you free felines were fond of hunting for your meals."

Demeter frowned. "I'm not a _stray_." She said defensively.

"I didn't mean it as an offense, I'm just surprised. All cats in this area love the hunt."

"Not _this_ cat." Demeter leapt down and shook her bristled fur. "I'm no 'free feline' either." Said the she-cat while Macavity got a better look at her. Even in her disheveled state was the calico still eye-catching. "I was a pet, you see... but circumstances became rather complicated, to say the least." Macavity approached, looked at her now-stained and filth-covered collar and tag.

"The humans throw you out?"

"No. Not even when they _had_ to. I made the choice _for_ them." She remembered the last happy look on the girl's face. Giving her a warm head-scratch before she left to school... she wished there were a way to have made it easier on them... she hoped she hadn't broken down and cried when she got home that afternoon. So many times Demeter thought of going back, but she remembered the baby's croaks as he struggled to breathe because of her, and knew she'd done what was right.

"You're a brave lass." Macavity suddenly said. Demeter's ear perked up in a mixture of bewilderment and awkwardness. She realized that he actually _was_ interested and was now taking a good look at her state. It made her all the more self-conscious. "Such emotional strength." Demeter bowed her head and blushed. "What are you called?" The rot on her tag had covered her name entirely.

Feeling as though he wanted to flirt, Demeter regained some self-assurance and fixed her posture. "What makes you want to know?"

"I like knowing the names of strong lasses like yourself. They make good company." Macavity grinned and Demeter felt part of her lip curl up in a playful manner.

She raised her brow suspiciously, "So you know _many_ strong lasses?"

"I _knew_ some... but not for very long, unfortunately." There was an intriguing atmosphere weighing heavily on Demeter; one she'd never felt before and was highly tempted by. "Would you like some _clean_ water and perhaps some _real_ food?" Now Demeter _really_ couldn't believe it.

"You're serious."

"Why would I lie to a face like yours? Come." He insisted. Macavity walked ahead expecting Demeter to follow, which she did. The trusting queen was sure that even if he imposed a threat, her claws would do the job. They've had time to grow since the woman was no longer here to file them down.

At last, Demeter treated herself to a clean bath and some canned kitten goods that Macavity had his 'friends' bring in from the trash cans outside the pet shops. If a can was dented even slightly, they'd toss them out. Such a shame – wasting perfectly nutritious food for his kind. He also had plenty bowls of water gathered from rain and fountain spouts for bathing and drinking. He had just about anything a cat needed in this small space he called home. Once she licked herself spotless and shook off the excess water, she rolled on the blanket to dry. Not once did Macavity nor his crew of rats walk in on her – he even instructed them not to barge in while a lady was washing herself and if they absolutely _had_ to walk through the area to leave, to give her a warning beforehand. He gave her so much privacy that Macavity didn't check on her until she called to him herself to indicate that she'd finished.

"Are you good and warm now?"

"Warmer than I'd ever been." She grinned brightly. The tag on her collar jingled as she rolled back to her stomach and Macavity was able to identify her at last.

 _"Demeter."_ He seemed to take an interest in her unusual name.

"She was a Greek God of agriculture... that's what the humans say." Macavity gave her a funny look. "What? Your name's not common either! _Macavity?_ "

"We free fellows take pride in names like ours. I wasn't mocking your name, not at all!"

"Do strays name themselves?"

Macavity chuckled. "We have a little saying, actually." He recited the old rhyme as though he'd been whispering it his whole life.

 _But I tell you a cat needs a name that's particular_  
 _A name that's peculiar, and more dignified_  
 _Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular_  
 _Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?_

Demeter was chilled to the core—but not out of fear. She felt as though she'd been told this before, perhaps a long time ago. Or maybe the rhyming scheme made her think of her old home and the videos she'd watched in the girl's lap. Whatever it was, it felt familiar. "Who told you this?" Wondered she. Macavity seemed to sneer and turned his head away. A peculiar reaction to an honest question, but Demeter wasn't stirred all that much. "How long have you been here, Macavity?" She asked as she decided to change the subject.

"Heh. I've lost track of time, if I'm honest. On my own is how I prefer it, though I don't mind some company now and then."

"The company of whom?"

"You're inquisitive, aren't you?"

Demeter sank her ears back. "Well, how else would I get to know you? You've done me such a kindness." Macavity looked humbled, endeared. He decided that he would humor her and sat before her.

"You might hear some things about me if you ever mention my name on these streets. But don't be alarmed by what others say—the wrong ideas spread quickly when a misinformed tongue shares them."

"Of course!" Demeter quickly agreed. She couldn't stand petty rumors. The nonsense people would make up just to belittle others upset her greatly. No one should get to pry into another's private world without their consent.

Macavity looked astonished. "You've never heard my name before?"

"Not until today." There was a shared quietness that felt both strange and intimate at once. Macavity fixed a stray hair on her face and Demeter's cheeks went pink. No tom's paw ever brushed her face before. So gentle and tentative, with care. It reminded her of her human's precious touch. Macavity could hear her purring.

"You're a funny cat, Demeter." He said softly.

Demeter looked back into his eyes. "You're a mysterious cat, Macavity."

—

For a month, the world felt like a daydream. Every morning when she woke, Macavity would make sure she had treats waiting for her before he left. He brought home a tasty pheasant for her in the evenings, sometimes a small duck. Her body was filling out again and her belly was full of exquisite nourishment she never imagined herself enjoying. As she would get herself comfortable at night, Macavity would nuzzle her face and neck and make sure that the pillow was fluffed proper and that she was warm enough. More and more did Demeter find herself singing happy tunes, loudly and without shame.

 _The key to all heaven is mine  
_ _My heart has wings, Mmm-mmm  
_ _And I can fly  
_ _I'll touch every star in the sky  
_ _So this is the miracle that I've been dreaming of_

At once, all of her dreams had come true; all the tales that inspired her human's stories had to have come from _something_ real, right? Yes. They were very real. Lately, all Demeter felt motivated to do whenever Macavity was around was dance. Through him, she learned about the pas de deux in all its forms. The language of love, he called it. Sometimes their tails would get tangled and two would fall into each other laughing. Macavity knew everything there was to romance, and Demeter couldn't believe her luck. He was also determined to take her out through town and show her all there was to know, make sure she knew how to get around and all the short-cuts and hiding spots whenever she needed to get back home. Home... she couldn't believe that she at last found a new one.

No, it didn't have cozy furniture or the affection of human owners, nor any music to be played or table scraps to be fed... but it was her own. But while her house had felt like a castle, the city was a palace. So many new things to explore and marvel at now that she was comfortable with it. It became so that Demeter was at ease going off on her own around town. Sometimes she'd head for the park where she could revel in the sunshine and climb the trees. She liked to watch the humans and sometimes, for nostalgia, get familiar with the children who spotted her and wanted to pet her. She'd remind herself not to get too sentimental with them – this was a _new_ life. No more missing her old one.

Once, however, she'd returned to her abode later than normal, and Macavity made it there before her. He had the most distressed look on his face she'd ever seen; it was actually a little sweet. "Where were you?" He asked with worry in his voice.

She walked beside him and nuzzled his cheek. "I'm sorry; a store was playing some nice music and I got distracted." Macavity sounded relieved and he purred while they rubbed noses.

"Such a romantic." They cuddled and purred some more, gave soft kisses to each other's faces. "Lioness, why don't we spend some time together tonight?"

She snorted. "Don't we spend time together _every_ night?" She looked into Macavity's eyes; sunken, but soft. Always looking after her. She knew what he was alluding to, and tonight wouldn't be their first time. Her first intimate experience had been an... endeavor. She had no clue how the 'mechanics' worked but Macavity was patient with her when they made love. He walked her through it and ensured that she felt secure all the way through. Not exactly idealistic, but it was special to her. She gave her innocence to Macavity – the mysterious cat that came to her rescue.

 _So this is love, Mmm-mmm  
So this is what makes life divine_

—

Demeter had been in a pleasant mood. She'd caught her first pidgeon and she eagerly hurried back to show it to her mate. At last, _she'd_ be bringing home something delicious. It had been a struggle obtaining the right amount of speed and stealth, but she, for the first time, felt like a free feline. She was part of Macavity's world now. She squinted and staggered, but also smiled with the bird meat between her sharp teeth. She entered through one of her secret short-cuts and dashed forward, legs hurriedly carrying her to a new and exciting romantic evening.

But she heard it before she saw it. A faint, anguished moan that made her gasp and drop the bird carcass. A cat she'd never seen before was tied down to the ground by thick strings. The rats had nailed them down so he was left struggling to move. The cat tried to turn to look at her, with drool stringing from his lip and body covered in sharp scratches. What did that vermin do to him? Demeter would make them her next entree for this! She rushed over and tried to loosen the ropes, but a voice startled her.

"Demeter? You're back already?" Macavity didn't look at all mortified, which disturbed the she-cat.

"Macavity! What's happened? Look! Those rats—"

"No, no, kitten. I ended up having some unexpected business to deal with tonight." Demeter looked back at the prisoner with frightened eyes, and then to Macavity with utter confusion and horror.

"W-What—"

"Go on. I need to deal with this alone." Demeter turned pitifully back to the tom who was looking at her pleadingly. She didn't have a choice. Demeter reluctantly strided around the corner where she didn't look, but she could hear everything.

 _Stay away_. She tells herself. _Help the poor thing!_ She tells herself.

"Now, why don't you follow my girl's example?" Said Macavity. "She knows how to follow simple instructions." Macavity struck his claws deep into the tom's skin and pulled down. It yowled with seizing muscles and a twisting body. Demeter couldn't look, but she could envision it without the need of seeing; she shut her eyes and put a paw over her chest. This wasn't the sweet-tempered gentleman of a tom she'd come to love and loved her. This had to be someone else, some sort of twisted realm she'd stumbled across. But she was bright enough to know that this was painfully real. "Why are you so much trouble? We had an agreement that your folk don't come around _my_ territory, above _and_ below ground. You could muck up my work flow!" Another stab and howl. Demeter felt tears in her eyes as she brought her paws up to her ears. What would've happened if she'd returned home sooner? She could have set him free!

Or worse, what if she'd come back later? She'd be left oblivious. Something told Demeter that this wasn't the first time this happened without her knowing... No. She didn't want to believe it, but her inner-rationality was telling her otherwise.

"I'll tell you what. You tell your hairballs you call a tribe that if they come around here again... hmph. My rats will have plenty to eat. How's that?" The tabby couldn't reply; he wasn't meant to. For Macavity, the answer was going to be yes, no matter _how_ he got it. Demeter was curled into a ball now, wanting the entire ordeal to be over. When she opened her eyes, none of this was happening – she'd stepped into another dimension somehow and they'd corrupted her precious Macavity.

"I hope I didn't scare you, love." He said to her after it was over with and they were on the other side of their living space. Demeter had nothing to say to him, mostly because she didn't _know_ what. She lied on the blanket without facing him and wouldn't let him see her eyes. Her petrified expression was telling, and she didn't want him to notice, as if her actions didn't make it obvious. "You know we toms like to make sure we stay off each other's turf... I handle my situations a little differently. And I'm nothing if not persuasive."

 _I'm nothing if not persuasive_. Those words stuck out to Demeter as if they meant something – they were a warning to what might actually be going on. He lapped the nape of her neck and whispered, "I saw the fine fowl you brought back. Your first kill. Soon you'll be a natural." _First kill. A natural._ What did all of this mean? "I guess your catch will have to wait until tomorrow... no point in eating while the mood is spoiled." No words passed her lips. Demeter wrapped her arms close to her body and closed her eyes.

She hoped that once she woke up, it will all have been a nightmare and her life would go back to the enchanting fairytale it had become. But that's just what it was: a fairytale... and those were never true. Maybe something made the writers once believe they were true, but right now, Demeter felt like no princess in the arms of a dashing young tom. Sleep wouldn't come to her, and so when Macavity had dozed off, she crept away and found the bleeding stranger still tied down and forced to lie in his own blood and urine. She approached slowly and when he opened his eyes, she quickly shushed him.

"It's all right." She whispered. The delicateness of her voice and heavenly glow in her eyes made her appear to be an angel. In his woozy state, that's just what she looked like. She used her teeth to pull off the ropes that held the creature down. The rats really knew what they were doing; Macavity had taught them well. He looked into her eyes and once she's through, she starts cleaning his cuts. Soon she would help him stand up and he would be able to walk away; scathed, but alive. That was more than he was expecting. "I'm sorry." She said before he departed, but the tom nodded at her.

"You've a kind heart... much too kind for a tom like Macavity." Demeter's eyes sank and her lips parted to say something, "Don't let him take it from you." His words echoed in the young queen's mind and would not cease for the weeks that followed. His words had more meaning than Macavity's. She mustn't lose herself to a fantasy, no matter how appealing.

It had faded so quickly... she wanted to cling to it and make it real for just a little longer. Even fairytales had their villains; perhaps Macavity had been warding one off. He had truthfully stated that he was defending his territory. _All_ toms were guilty of such feats... but Demeter knew this wasn't the first time Macavity had probably done this while she was away, and that there was a _reason_ he wanted her gone while he handled business. She took to asking around, and apparently some street cats called him the Hidden Paw. He was a fiend who could never be caught by humans and cats alike.

At night, he still wanted to make love to her, and Demeter was becoming increasingly hesitant to consent. No, he never forced himself on her when she said she wasn't feeling well or wanted to wait a little longer before 'trying again,' but she knew there was a reason why he kept her held tight and didn't want to mate with anyone else. All he talked about was having kittens; a litter of three or four of their own.

While Demeter liked the idea and thought perhaps kits of his own would knock some sense into him, it terrified her at the same time. And she had not been spayed, so there was no getting out of it. Unlike most house pets, she'd been mercifully spared that surgery. It got to a point where Macavity wouldn't let her leave at all, and if she tried, he'd find her within minutes and drag her right back. All it took was his stern voice to intimidate her into submission. He was patient with her, but that was because he needed her pristine for mating. Did he love her that much, or was she just his personal favorite plaything that hadn't gotten away yet? She didn't know it, but she'd lasted the longest with Macavity.

Demeter knew that all of her plans to flee would be foiled by his treacherous rodents that were always lurking—that's how he always managed to catch her so quickly. So what Demeter did was, while no one was looking, sneak some rat poison she found in an open delivery tuck into his henchmen's food. She'd only recognized the smell of the pest killer thanks to her humans... the only people to have actually loved her. Now that they were deceased, passed on in their sleep, and Macavity had gone out to do some 'hunting,' Demeter could make her escape.

As far from Central London as she could go until her feet gave out and she had to rest. She kept thinking back to what he possibly had planned for her if she'd stayed a little longer... what she could've become.

 _You've a kind heart. Don't let him take it from you._

Indeed, this tom's words remained ever-present as she made a new place for herself and got familiar with the area. Once again she was back to wandering, wishing, hoping. Even when her heart ached, she would sing.

 _No matter how your heart is grieving_  
 _If you keep on believing_  
 _The dream that you wish will come true_


	17. Invasion

**Munkustrap**

Climbing down the first Underground entrance they could find, the three toms took careful steps into the dark, lifeless railway. What was normally bustling with people was now dreary and the only scraps they could find were cigarette butts, shoe marks, empty pop cans and crisp bags. A common sight to stray cats such as these.

"Guys, these tunnels are _huge_. How will we know where to start?" Mistoffelees' voice echoed through the wide chamber.

"It's gotta be in _this_ area." Munkustrap theorized. "He said it was right underneath us, and Demeter was taking—"

"Demeter?" Tugger interrupted. Munkustrap had forgotten entirely that Tugger didn't know who she was.

"Ah... Demeter's... she's a friend."

 _"She?"_ Now Tugger sounded amused, but this wasn't the time.

"I've seen her around the junkyard for months; she offered to help after you walked away." There was an uncanny howling noise that could only be explained by wind... which none of the cats knew how any breeze could reach them down there.

Mr. Mistoffelees huddled close between the two toms. "I'm getting the creeps down here, guys." His fur was standing upright.

"Oh come on. There's nothing to be afraid of down here." Munkustrap looked into an open door where a massive sign with bolded letters greeted them: **NOTICE.** **NO UNAUTHORIZED PERSONS ALLOWED BEYOND THIS POINT. DOORS TO BE KEPT LOCKED SHUT.**

The dyslexic Tugger needed help making sure he was reading it correctly... not that it was going to stop any of them from progressing regardless. They walked down a long corridor that was full of metal, humming tubes on the walls and signs with randomized numbers and letters. Breakers and fuse boxes accompanied these long cables. The walls had cracks in them and the paint was peeling off. It had been neglected for decades. The agoraphobic spacing and pitch-darkness of the area gave Mistoffelees sudden flashes of the bad place.

"I don't like this." He voiced dreadfully. Neither brother seemed to listen. "Whenever I get bad vibes, it's usually for a good reason, though sometimes it just means I might've ate something that didn't agree with my stomach, but I can't remember the last time I've eaten—" Tugger stuffed his tail into the tuxedo cat's mouth. He got rambly when he was nervous, and his rambling was making _him_ uneasy.

"Stop." He said succinctly. His older brother wasn't even paying attention – he was too busy sniffing around for the criminal cat. He lost his footing for a brief moment and nearly fell through the gaping hole where Macavity's aroma was the strongest, as if he'd just been there. All three cats poked their heads over the gap and tried to calculate how far the drop was. "Any chance you can light us a path, magic boy?"

"Do you see anything _around_ that I can use? We're just gonna have to wing it."

Munkustrap's eyes went wide. "What?"

"Sounds fine to me." Tugger replied.

 _"What?"_ Munkustrap couldn't believe it – they must be a match made in heaven... except _not!_ "Are you both insane? What if there _is_ no bottom? What if one of you breaks your back?"

"I suppose that's the way to go. Just know it'll have been in pursuit of our father." Tugger remarked in a deadpan manner. He got it from his brother.

Mr. Mistoffelees stretched his limbs, straightened out his spine. "I guess I'll make the first leap into the rabbit hole." Neither Jellicle got the reference. Before Munkustrap could try once more to stop him, Mistoffelees disappeared down the crack with a nonchalant, _"Alley-oop!"_ They counted five seconds and when neither cat heard any indication that he'd landed, they peered over once again.

"Buddy?" Tugger called down. No response.

"What if something grabbed him?" Munkustrap asked worriedly. He found that he was already fond of the eccentric teenager. They heard something fumble around. "Mistoffelees?" Unable to see him, they heard his voice.

"Guys, don't worry, it's totally safe to— _AAGH! OH GOD!"_ Mistoffelees cried in horror and Munkustrap shouted his name in a panic. Even Rum Tum Tugger's eyes got big with fear. His screaming ended abruptly and he went back to his usual tone. "—Yeah, it's fine down here." Munkustrap's heart thumped against his chest and while he gave a nasty glare, Tugger started snickering.

"I like this kid!" _Of course he did._ Munkustrap rolled his eyes and Tugger fixed his belt. "All right bro, which one of us is first?"

"Uh..." He looked down the hole nervously; Mistoffelees might be fine, and he wasn't worried about not landing on his feet, but just how far down was it? What awaited him? "Just give me a second." Tugger's eyes narrowed. They'd be there all night. "I'm gonna just count to three and then—" Tugger shoved him down and Munkustrap screamed at the top of his lungs.

Meanwhile, Tugger dived right in, _"Cannonbaaaalllll!"_

* * *

 **Demeter**

The first time Demeter crossed the junkyard was early on a summer day that she'd been taking down a bird. It was a feisty one that flapped its wings violently no matter how hard she chewed into it. She supposed her time with Macavity had been useful after all—she was a much better huntress thanks to him. Despite how it ended up, Demeter might've starved if she never met him. He served his purpose, at least she could say.

Any time she saw a rat skimp by, a part of her wanted to shudder. She felt like Macavity just might be looking for her, unless he'd charmed _another_ smitten young queen by now... looking back at that time, her naivety was humiliating. The most she could say was that now she was free to explore wherever she wanted and perhaps have grand adventures of her own, but for some reason, something made her stay in the West End. It was that odd pull she felt the very day she met Macavity—it told her it was all right and to follow wherever that force seemed to go... but look at how that went last time!

Of course, she wasn't a naive newcomer anymore. She was now an experienced feline with honed hunting skills and much more pragmatism. Demeter would practice caution when investigating whatever this longing was. As she walked, keeping her body low to the ground, she caught a whiff of another cat... many of them! Had she wandered into a stranger's territory? They would _not_ be at all welcoming should they spot her. But she sniffed the ground and was led to the tall gates of an old junkyard _filled_ with exotic scents of mysterious cats. Purebreds and mixed-breeds alike. All strays.

Demeter felt unexpectedly appalled that all this time she'd spent in hiding that she never once came across this place, nor this tribe. She kept hidden and no one seemed to notice her arrival. But as she watched from where she stood, peering through the chain-linked fence, a handsome, silver-and-black tom had seen her and was giving her a piercing glare from behind the metal.

His eyes were the iciest blue she'd ever seen. Glittering like river banks in the sunlight. His gaze was one of both suspicion and threat, saying she was _not_ to come any closer. She was a stranger, and strangers were dangerous... but Demeter could only stare back with curiosity. He must have some sort of title around here, since he was the only one on watch. He looked to be debating whether to approach or not, but Demeter was already in a submissive stance. He was aware of her every movement – he would mirror even the slightest tilt of her head to prove so. She knew where he was coming from, this was _his_ home, after all, but she still felt compelled to come closer. Remaining in an unguarded position, Demeter placed one paw forward, but she heard the low growl from the tabby and quickly pulled back.

His gaze was stopped short by the call of another tom from within the tribe, but he kept his eyes on her as he gingerly started away. He'd let her know _whose_ territory she was in. Demeter watched him then turn and hustle away... more enraptured by the occasion than frightened.

She was well-aware that there had to be a limit to how close she could get before the tom decided to actually attack her... in fact, Demeter might even be crossing it just _thinking_ about getting closer! It's unsafe, so why did she keep considering it? Because the grey-coated tom won't get out of her head. Her interest felt nothing like how she'd felt with Macavity. Macavity had been openly-flattering and fed into her less-experienced innocence... this tom had to do nothing and she was bent on him. Demeter knows she's been that watch-tom before; watching from afar, alert and unsure, perhaps even a little scared. She had to show that she wouldn't bring harm to neither him nor his tribe.

For days, she dares herself to stride a little closer to the gates and peer through. Her claws dig the ground with adrenaline and anxiety. Her yellow-green eyes search for the tabby, who seems to be nowhere nearby. She's inhaling, exhaling, waiting for him to arrive and possibly maim her into her next life. He must trust her, she thought, if she trusted him.

Then she saw him!

And if she sees him, then he sees her as well.

He'd been asleep, but something caused him to stir and wake the instant she locked eyes on him. Perhaps a bad dream? Her scent? It did not matter, not anymore, for this was the moment all of Demeter's worries would cease. He looked at her, the strange queen, and stood up. All she wanted was to look, and so he obliged. Neither knew why the other was so intent on staring the other down, but it was only because it was what kept them at bay. What she did next was exceptionally baffling to the poor Egyptian Mau; she lied down on her stomach and got comfortable – she wanted to sleep with him watching nearby. Uncertain whether he'd come closer or not, she kept awake in order to listen for his movements, but he too seemed to lie back down as he leered on. When morning came and the first thing Demeter did was poke her head up to see if he'd come any closer, she found that he'd fallen back asleep right where he was before, still facing her. She took solace in that.

At the same time, her thoughts raged. What was happening to her? Macavity might've flattered her pride, but she felt whatever this strange cat was doing to her was far more dangerous. Despite it felt forbidden, Demeter wished with all her might that they were able to speak to one another so that they could relinquish themselves of their uncertainties. Her life had been easy, so why did she leave the sanctuary she once called home for this? She knew nothing about the tom, and yet she felt like she'd learned so much about him through the days of watching and listening. She wondered if he spent his days obsessing over her as well, and found herself _wishing_ for it.

One day, she heard the young tom's voice for the first time. He was singing. Narrating a story for a group of small kittens. His rich voice brushed against Demeter's ears and she drew closer to the scene, careful not to be caught. A smile crossed her every time he managed to get the little ones excited or surprised; there was passion in his voice. He cared about what he was doing and minced no details. She was so enthralled by his tale that she failed to realize that the youngest kitten in the group had noticed her and was instantly taken by her.

"I see an angel right _there!"_ She pointed. Her eyes were wide with amazement; as if the story he'd been telling had come true before her very eyes. The tom telling the story whirled around and Demeter leapt out of sight. The other kittens laughed.

"You're seeing things, Jemima!"

"No! She was right there!"

The tom corrected the teasing kittens. "Angels only allow themselves to be seen by a certain few. Sometimes not even the brightest cat is able to spot one." At that point, Jemima stuck her tongue out at the other girls and they bat their paws at her ears. Demeter was touched by the tom's gesture to defend the child, and how he'd done so without missing a beat. Once they were escorted back to their resting area, the tom, that Demeter at last knew was called Munkustrap, quickly looked at her without needing a moment to search for her. Her heart fluttered for a quick moment, but she saw that he had no intention of attacking.

In fact, he was relieved that it was only her. The calico called Demeter. Now she knew that she didn't _have_ to maintain her distance... but it was best. If Macavity were looking for her, he would get rid of whatever was in his way to bring her back. She wouldn't put these innocent lives into jeopardy. Still, she stuck around to make the kittens happy and observe Munkustrap. The tribe had a lot of funny little events that involved dance and song, which made Demeter miss singing and having a partner to dance with.

She'd find Munkustrap alone during the night rehearsing his numbers to himself... and more often than not, he'd discover her watching him and continue on as if she weren't there. He'd never admit it, but he felt at ease with a stranger as his audience—her judgement did not intimidate him, yet he could get himself used to having someone's eyes on him. Demeter would think that she was intruding too much and spend a day or two away from the junkyard to give the tribe their privacy... and unbeknownst to her, Munkustrap would begin to sing with heartfelt emotion and his tenor voice would fill the air. Then, abruptly, he would stop and turn to look over his shoulder outside the fence. No one was there listening. He would try again, filling the hollowness in his soul, but couldn't continue without her there.

Demeter had bewitched him, it would seem. And all the while, she herself was just rediscovering her own voice; finding new old tunes to sing to herself.

 _Oh, isn't this amazing?_  
 _It's my favorite part because you'll see!_  
 _Here's where she meets Prince Charming  
But she won't discover that it's him till chapter three!_


	18. Reunion

**Munkustrap**

The heavy air pressed down on his shoulders. **TO THE TRAIN** was written on the wall, but the letters were faded and decayed. Unlike the ground-level tunnel that had the comfort of humming breakers, it was excruciatingly quiet down here. Not even the wind reached them anymore. This was no place for a cat... no place for a person either! Munkustrap wouldn't doubt that no one had crawled through this place in years... if not decades. He kept hearing a _tsk_ from behind him and when he finally turned around to investigate, it turned out to be Mistoffelees clicking his tongue. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to lighten the ambience a bit." He nervously said. "This silence is murder!"

"It's fine." Munkustrap tried to assure. "Silence is good. It means no one's around."

"Not exactly true." Tugger added, which earned him a death glare from his brother.

Mr. Mistoffelees was shaking. "I hate the dark. It makes me think about the bad place."

"You're fine, kid. We got your back." Tugger assured; it was enough to make Mistoffelees perk his head back up and hurry up beside the two. "But you're right," Tugger squinted just to get a look at the path ahead of them, "it's really fucking dark."

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it. So let's just get a move on."

"Actually, I've got a solution!" Both adults stopped and watched the teen twirl his paws. _"Presto!"_ Suddenly, a plume of light flew from his arms and embers stuck to the walls, providing some soft illumination. It wasn't much, but it helped.

Tugger looked around in awe, "Clever cat!"

Munkustrap was equally amazed, but then something struck him. "Wait, why didn't you try that earlier?"

Mistoffelees blinked. Even _he'_ _d_ let the idea slip past him, but the tuxedo cat was too proud to care about that minor oversight. Of course, now that they could see, that meant that someone else could see them too. They caught a rat darting out of sight – one that could possibly lead them to where they needed to be. Munkustrap didn't bother debating whether it was a regular rat or one of Macavity's, he followed it and left the others behind. Neither were quite as fast as him.

"Bro! Wait up!"

Munkustrap didn't listen – he didn't consider that it might be dangerous to single himself out again; his eyes were on Macavity. On freeing Demeter and his father, then finally returning home. He'd see Macavity's pelt hung up in the center of the junkyard as their trophy. A reminder of what happens when they snatch the loved one of a Jellicle Cat. He went further and further away from Mistoffelees' lights and was back into the darkness. He couldn't tell what he was about to get into anyway; in a way, if something _had_ happened to Demeter or Old Deuteronomy, then perhaps he wouldn't have to see it.

His body jerks as he shimmies through a small crack in the wall and springs back into a sprint. His lungs and legs have reached their limit, but Munkustrap slides through the tunnels as he climbs some steps. He has no coherent thoughts. Just an instinct to protect.

It was a mercy when he finally came to a hollowing in the underground area and a familiar voice wrenched from the darkness.

* * *

 **Rum Tum Tugger**

Munkustrap had rushed far beyond his line of sight, and the poor tyke behind him was having trouble keeping up, and Tugger couldn't leave him behind when he was already feeling shaky. _"Bro!"_ Nothing but his own voice reverberated against the walls. If cats weren't blessed with decent sight and such a good sense of smell, Tugger didn't know how he'd manage to track his own brother in the deluge of darkness. He can faintly hear the chirps of small rats in the walls.

He heard sparks. Was there a fuse box nearby? He turned around and saw electric bolts sizzling in Mistoffelees' paws. They kept dying out every time he tried to get them to work.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to give us a way to see."

"Don't worry about that, just help me sniff out my brother or Macavity." Right as he finished, the kit had unleashed a whip of lightning ahead of them and there was a violent _CRACK_. Tugger flinched, and when the dust cleared, he saw that Mistoffelees, inadvertently or not, left an enormous gap in the wall that was flooding with rats. They went squirming and scattered in all directions, brushing over and past the cats' feet. "Jesus Christ!" Not even in the heaviside layer did Tugger imagine he'd find this many rodents. Mr. Mistoffelees swiped and snapped his jaws at them. Stepping forward, Tugger noticed a strange air coming from the hole. "You feel that?"

It was ventilation; both cats could feel it. It led somewhere. They would follow.

* * *

 **Munkustrap**

"Demeter!" His voice was full of relief. She was tied to the floor with the very same ropes she'd freed a poor cat from. She'd been pulling and biting to no avail; she'd gained raw marks from how much she'd been twisting to free herself. Her eyes lit up when she heard Munkustrap's voice and saw he was but a few inches in front of her.

She could not but smile. "Munkustrap!" As soon as he reached her, Munkustrap pressed their faces close in a deep nuzzle. He pulled the ropes, used his claws, grinded his teeth against them. She looked at him and couldn't believe his miraculous recovery! He was a bloody mess when she last saw him. It didn't matter now; he was here, and he really _shouldn't_ be! She spoke quickly and quietly. "I'll be fine. Go find your father." Munkustrap no longer cared about death. He ignored her and tried to pry the nails holding the thread down from the ground. _"Munkustrap."_

"I'm not leaving without you." He declared. He dug his claw under the metal in a feeble attempt to loosen it. They heard a rumble of thunder from above ground; the lifeless sky was finally ready to weep. Rain meant Macavity would return – he hated working in a storm. Demeter pressed him to hurry and tried tugging to give him some leverage. The nails began to loosen.

* * *

 **Mr. Mistoffelees**

Charging through the hordes of rats and insects, the Maine Coon and the tuxedo kitten were greeted by the overwhelming aroma of blood and droppings. They came to an area full of empty C-A-G-E-S. Mistoffelees froze and Tugger looked around. He had to do a double take. He couldn't believe it. It had felt like an eternity since he last saw him, but there he was. "Pop...? _Pop!"_

Old Deuteronomy was in one of these carriers. He was weak; he hadn't been fed in over two days. But when he heard the voice he'd spent nearly thirty years listening to, all of his energy returned to him. He mustered as much strength as he could just to look up at his son. Tugger was there before he could even say his name; he reached through the bars and grabbed his father's paw. "Tugger... How'd you—?"

"We're taking you home." He started to fiddle with the lock, but his claws could only do so much. Mistoffelees couldn't move. The cages evoked too much horror for him to even realize where he was. He was back in his C-E-L-L with a bag wrapped over his face and head. A M-U-Z-Z-L-E. He spent hours scratching at it and yowling into his own ears. He tore through it so much that he clawed into his own face. The H-U-M-A-N-S had forced him to wear it. They forced many of them on him. He knew what drowning felt like. "Misto, I need your help with this!" Mistoffelees' entire body was shaking. His irises were shrunken but his eyes were wide. He was somewhere else. Tugger didn't know what to say to snap him out of it. "Kid! It's okay, come here!" He held a paw out and the motion caught Mistoffelees' attention. "We need you."

 _We need you_. Those were the words that not even Magical Mister Mistoffelees believed would ever be directed towards him. Looking at the Maine Coon that had been a stranger to him just hours ago, the one he dreamed about calling 'brother' was here asking for his help, and he could give it to him. For the first time, his abilities were of use. And they could be noble. He was not in the bad place; right now, he was _needed_. Recollecting exactly how he'd managed to break the lock of his own C-A-G-E and leap free when the V-E-T opened the door to clean his litter box, Mistoffelees stepped close to the metal door and worked his magic. He was going to help his new F-A-M-I-L-Y.

* * *

 **Demeter**

Thunder rumbled. Demeter's limbs were sore, but she had to help lead Munkustrap to the surface—there were quite a few emergency exits that Macavity himself fashioned through the ruins of this abandoned train station, but it was a matter of which one to use. On top of that, she couldn't remember where Macavity kept his prisoners. Old Deuteronomy must be somewhere. She led the way while Munkustrap sniffed for his brother and father. This place was even _more_ out of shape than when she last saw it... or her perhaps her perspective had changed. What once felt like a safe haven was nothing more than a jail. What she dubbed to be her shabby little castle was actually a gilded dungeon.

Time and experience changed her. She _too_ was not the same since the last time she was here. Demeter had become far more powerful than her younger self could've ever imagined, only at the expense of her ignorance of the world's cruelty and hate. But now, hate had no purpose; not even for Macavity. Not even for what he's done. Had he not tricked the foolish Demeter, she never would've felt the need to escape to the West End, she never would have discovered the Jellicle Tribe. She would not be beside her prince as they hurried to rescue their leader – _his_ loved one. Perhaps she _was_ meant to desert her humans to protect their baby, just as she left Macavity to protect herself. But she would never leave Munkustrap, nor his people ever again, for she would protect him until her final breath if it meant fulfilling her purpose.

There was a large hole in ceiling through which water was pouring; it had already begun to rain. A torrential downpour awaited them on the outside, but they were only concerned about the others. Munkustrap shouldn't have been so hasty. He wanted to call out for his brother and the smaller cat, but he didn't want to make it more obvious that they'd broken in. "Munkustrap, look." Demeter pointed him to the broken wall that was still sizzling with heat; it hadn't been the cause of anything _natural_. Reaching the other side, the calico and the Mau found the room of carriers, with one that had its door ripped off. They saw the regular entry way that would lead them outside and chased after the cold air.

* * *

 **Old Deuteronomy**

It had been two days since he saw the sun and not even upon regaining his freedom would he see it, as rain blinded his vision as his son and the mysterious juvenile each had one arm and helped him up to the sidewalk. He'd had no food, but now he would have water, so it was easier to speak. This would have been avoided if he had better-prepared his boys for an attack, but Macavity underestimated the courage and resilience of his sons. Rum Tum Tugger said that Munkustrap isn't far behind and that he'd go back for him once they were above ground. If he trusted the small cat with his life, then Old Deuteronomy would to. Tugger credited the youngling for being the reason they found him in the first place.

Macavity always had a way of getting what he wanted. He teased out people's most negative emotions and used them as a weapon. Feelings were a double-edged sword. The Jellicles had all been told of who he was and not to listen to a single word he says—his sons especially knew so. Macavity could never know love. He would never understand the unconditional affection he had for his subjects as well as what they did for him. Old Deuteronomy pitied the sorrowful beast. He could mimic these emotions well, sometimes fooling even the Jellicle leader himself in the past. Tonight had been an act of true love; Macavity would never comprehend the reason _why_ his sons came to his rescue, but he knew they'd be coming either way, and so they had to hurry.

Old Deuteronomy would be happy to see Munkustrap when Tugger returned with him; he would be happy to see _any_ of his subjects upon their arrival back home. But he did not know how far away Macavity was nor how quickly he'd catch up to them because of his slow gait. If anything, he'd rather take the fall for his boys than see them suffer at the criminal cat's claws and fangs. It would be less painful. They made it up the final step and Old Deuteronomy breathed in fresh air once more; he tasted the rain and let it wash the rot off his fur.

Tugger took his father's shoulder and they touched heads. Only his touch could bring him comfort and at last, the young Maine Coon had it. He felt Old Deuteronomy's shivering paw caress his face. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. Rum Tum Tugger could communicate with his father in silence—words weren't required for them to understand. The thunder tumbled through the air and Tugger took a step away back towards the stairs. "Misto, if anyone shows up, you do whatever you can to hold them off. I'm gonna get my brother." Mistoffelees nodded, but Tugger was halted by his father's paw on his shoulder. He shook wildly to get his drenched mane out of his eyes; it was useless because it was soaked again within a few seconds.

"You're going alone?" He said in a hoarse voice; the fact that he could barely speak felt like a cold knife in Tugger's chest. He didn't want to hear anymore. In fact, the Maine Coon had to shout just so he could hear _himself_ over the rainfall. It pounded against their heads and the earth around them.

"I have to, Pop. He's down there!" Old Deuteronomy wasn't looking into his eyes; he instead fixed his gaze on the faded scars he'd been given just hours ago. Tugger pressed his paw over them. He remembered the other scars that his onyx fur now covered well—the ones he'd nearly lost his son to when he was a soft eighteen. He couldn't stand to imagine the sight again. "I'll be okay." Tugger didn't let his father say anything else and turned to Mistoffelees. He himself didn't look happy about any of this. "If I'm not back in ten minutes, you know how to get home, right?" He nodded discontentedly. Mr. Mistoffelees hoped that wouldn't be the scenario.

But before any daring rescue mission could occur, he heard something rushing closer up the stairs. In that instant, Tugger stood back to shield both his father and Mistoffelees. He was ready to strike, but what he saw instead were Munkustrap and Demeter lurching out into the open. Tugger let out a breath of relief and Munkustrap's eyes, though now filled with rainwater, joyously lit the area as he rushed into his father's arms. Their fur was sticky from the storm, but they embraced each other tightly as Munkustrap nuzzled his face and neck. Demeter watched with a heavy heart, then looked to Tugger. He was too distracted by the scene to even introduce himself. Old Deuteronomy could now rejoice in being in the presence of his children; both the ones he'd fathered and his new nuclear family. No doubt crossed his mind that the she-cat and the illusionist had a place in his tribe.

Munkustrap's heart was full. All was right in the world. The downpour of rain completely deafened them to what was approaching from a few steps away.


	19. Discovery

**Munkustrap**

Munkustrap's heart skipped a beat when he opened his eyes to see Macavity's shape underneath a dim streetlamp. He pulled away from Old Deuteronomy and his eyes went wide. Demeter was already growling; her ears flattened and her tail swished. Mistoffelees whipped around and tried to strike him with a bolt of lightning, but Macavity snatched his wrist in a vice-like grip and twisted. Mistoffelees was thrown into the puddles below him before he even knew what happened. Macavity had not come looking for violence, but he had to get rid of the only cat that might impose any threat to him. Right as Munkustrap threw himself in front of his father, Tugger sprinted past the two and went straight for Macavity.

"YOU ARSE!" He jumped at him, still fueled from the rage of when he'd found his mangled brother left for dead in the grass. He was bigger than Macavity, but the homicidal cat had more than raw strength on his side. Tugger's jaws met Macavity's arm, and while his grip was strong, the flashing lights Macavity willed upon them were blinding and forced Tugger off.

Mistoffelees pushed himself up and shook his head. He had no idea what was going in behind him. All he saw now was a disoriented Rum Tum Tugger and Munkustrap readying himself to pounce atop the ginger cat. The tabby gave him no time to get another strike on his little brother. Old Deuteronomy was trying to rush to them, but Demeter leapt in front of him and blocked his way; her expression was pleading him not to get any closer. If Macavity was willing to starve him for two days, then he'd have no qualms about cutting right through him.

Tugger shook off the dizziness and watched Macavity flip Munkustrap off of him; the flimsy cat was easily thrown to the rain-soaked ground and the wind was knocked out of him. With a raging _HISS_ that bore all of his fangs, he forced Macavity away from the gray tom. He dueled with him tooth and claw, Mistoffelees helped Munkustrap back to his feet. They ripped each other's fur and tore at their manes, shrieking into the night like the savages they'd be in the wild. Tugger bounded onto the red cat's body and forced him into the water. With all of his might, he clasped his teeth around Macavity's ear and the tom yowled and wriggled and twisted to free himself—but as Tugger anticipated, when Macavity flung his body forward to free himself, he tore his own lobe off as a means of escaping the Maine Coon's jaws. He was still writhing in pain when Tugger spit out the flecks of flesh and fur.

Munkustrap calculated his next move while yelling, "Mistoffelees, do something!"

Mistoffelees shouted back, "I might hit Tugger!"

He wasn't wrong; on top of that, lightning with all this water around wouldn't be a good idea anyway. He would have to jump in. Demeter was still guarding Old Deuteronomy, who could barely restrain himself from pushing her aside and halting this nonsense. Six quick strides and Tugger was over Macavity. _We have a lot more in common than you could possibly believe._ He went cold all over and felt his muscles seize. Four of Macavity's claws pierced his thigh and Rum Tum Tugger fell. If he'd screamed, then his voice was drowned out by the rain and thunder.

 _"Tugger!"_ Munkustrap cried. He ran towards his brother; the ground was so slippery that the road came up to slap him, but he crawled over his bleeding body and guarded him. Tugger writhed and breathed through his teeth. Macavity raked the tom's face so hard that he broke his lip. Blood flew from his mouth. Munkustrap could only then give him a look of the purest loathing he held within his heart.

"This didn't have to be such a mess!" Macavity shouted. What remained of his left ear was puffing up. "We could've negotiated peacefully had your little _fools_ for backup not gotten so hasty!"

Tugger's leg was on fire. The rain smothered the wound and blood painted the grounds. _I will kill him_. Munkustrap stood up straight and allowed Mistoffelees to consult Tugger. _I will kill the son of a bitch._ _I can at least do that_ _._ Munkustrap was shouting internally.

Macavity suddenly began to cackle. "Look at _you_ , the heir to the Jellicles. Standing high and mighty for the first time in his life." He choked on his own words. "All this and yet you _still_ don't want to ask why this had to happen?"

"I don't _care_ who you are or _what_ you want!" He snarled. "If you touch my brother, my father, or anyone I love again, then I'll FUCKING KILL YOU." His roar was echoed by the thunder that was applauding Munkustrap's declaration. Before he could give Macavity another swipe, he was hoisted upward by the neck.

"STOP!" Demeter shouted.

Munkustrap was thrown down. Let's test just how strong his will is. _"Macavity!"_ Old Deuteronomy pushed the queen aside and came out of their hiding spot, "MACAVITY!" He had the ginger's attention, as well as the three other toms. Mistoffelees was still trying to close Tugger's sharp cut, but that would only do so much; his injuries were inside as well. Mistoffelees hadn't gotten that far with his healing yet. "Enough," said Old Deuteronomy, "you wanted _me_ , well here I am." Macavity was amused. "Let it end! They are my sons!"

The red and black tom sneered. "As am I!"

* * *

 **Old Deuteronomy**

The first kitten of his ninth and final life was the first time Old Deuteronomy ever experienced love at first sight. When he was just beginning to walk did the kitten have an insatiable curiosity for how everything worked, and could make a toy or game out of anything he found within the closed-down amusement park the Jellicles once lived in. It didn't take much to make the little one happy; he loved to ride on his father's chest as they rested, to be acknowledged by the older cats, to chase a mouse for a good ten minutes. For the first couple of months (which can sometimes mean years to a cat), everything was perfect. A watercolor portrait of happiness.

But Old Deuteronomy noticed something off with Macavity. Most kittens have their quirks, but Macavity seemed incredibly... detached. Not detached like Old Deuteronomy himself, where he could put aside his emotions to make a practical decision, but no sense of what others are feeling except to manipulate them. Macavity was always an excellent liar. Oh yes, he'd even fooled his own father many a time when he pretended to have gotten his feelings hurt when in reality _he'd_ been the culprit of whatever quarrel had occurred. Whether he hurt somebody's feelings mattered nothing to him... unless he wanted them for something.

How could a parent ever comprehend that their child's peculiarities might lead to what it did? Everything was so magical to his little kitten when he'd first been born, but the gradual changes were becoming more and more apparent and more and more disturbing to his father. His temper tantrums were difficult to describe or justify. He would attack the other kittens, sometimes taking pleasure in scratching them. He hunted mice and birds just for fun, bit them so that they were left struggling instead of to kill them quickly and eat them.

Soon the tantrums were turned on him and Macavity's own mother, then later his step-mother. He would scratch and bite and shout profanities, and like any parent, they tried to talk him down, but were left with only the option of leaving him alone until he calmed down. Not just as a father and husband, but a protector to a tribe of worried cats did Old Deuteronomy find himself conflicted about his son's behavior. He had no way of excusing it, but he did his best to show he loved him in hopes that this was just a phase and the sweet kitten he was would return. Everyone was walking on eggshells with Macavity, and there was only so much they were able to tolerate just because he was their patriarch's son.

But then something that made Old Deuteronomy truly feel afraid happened when Macavity was ten cat years old. His new wife was pregnant, and they had both seen what Macavity did with the kittens that _knew_ to run away from him. So what would happen to one that _couldn't?_ He didn't want his wife to be distressed during her pregnancy, and made sure he was the one to solely take care of Macavity while they awaited the birth of their next litter. He hadn't a clue of _how_ he'd hide this from his son once he started seeing the signs—God knows what kind of fight he'd put up to see his sibling. He knew it wouldn't lead to anything he left his most trusted toms to care for his wife, Old Deuteronomy focused all of his attention on Macavity.

He had to be diplomatic and open-minded, but how was he supposed to get through to a cat that had almost zero capacity to love? Worse, what if his next kitten was the same? His most grand mistake was finally letting Macavity _know_ that there was a baby on the way... not because he threw a fit or lashed out. Instead, he had an oddly eager reaction and developed a fascination with his future sibling. It comforted his mother and petrified his father. To make things worse, Old Deuteronomy knew that his wife wouldn't be around for much longer... and without her protection, this baby could be in peril the moment it's born. The nine weeks went by far too quickly for the elder cat to take any sort of action.

...But when his second baby boy was born, Macavity showed nothing but wonder and care for the kitten. He helped to bring him food and water and took the responsibility of helping the blind infant stay clean. He wasn't necessarily the happy kitten he was at the beginning, but he was more stable than Old Deuteronomy could've asked for. He remained guarded whenever he saw Macavity with the newborn, and ensured they were always supervised when together. He wanted to give his son the benefit of doubt, but he was far too rational to do that.

One day when the little kit was thirsty, but his mother was too sick to nurse him, Macavity offered to bring him some water. Nothing was unusual about that, but Old Deuteronomy came by to notice the kit making odd noises as he lapped up the water with his small tongue. He started croaking, and the dryness of his throat made him want more water... which made the feeling worse. Old Deuteronomy looked at the water dish—was it old? "Macavity, what's this?"

"It's water." He replied. Old Deuteronomy sniffed it and couldn't find anything wrong, but he didn't let the baby take another sip. He'd already gone through most of the bowl, but Old Deuteronomy was able to get a lick. That _taste._ What on earth had gone wrong in this drink? He didn't let the infant take another swig and he dumped the water into a storm drain. Later that night, the family was awoken by the sounds of their precious kitten choking. Seconds later, he was vomiting so much that the undigested remains of his last three meals could be found within the bile. Old Deuteronomy _knew_ it had to be the water. He glared at Macavity and demanded him to tell where he'd gotten the water from.

It hadn't been about _where_ he found the water, but what he did to it. He'd poured some pesticide into the dish before feeding it to his brother. Why? Had he not been his son, Old Deuteronomy could have struck him down right there, but he had to focus on the baby and nursing him back to health now. There was _nothing_ excusable, and he knew just what Macavity wanted: to get rid of his brother. If he wasn't a monster before, he just might be one now; attempting to murder a helpless creature. One that shared the same blood as him. Between this, his ill child, and aging, weary wife that might not live to see her second son grow, Old Deuteronomy could only arrive at one conclusion. Macavity had to go.

He was a ticking time bomb and there was only so much of the fuse left.

—

Macavity had never apologized. Two cat weeks went by, three cat weeks, four. Nothing could convince Old Deuteronomy that his tribe was safe from his own son... especially his younger boy. When his wife passed away and the tribe wept for the loss of their Lady, Macavity hardly twitched. He didn't mourn for his own mother, so why would his step-mother mean anything to him? The infant kitten was too young to understand emotions like grief and sadness. All he knew was hunger and sleepiness. For Old Deuteronomy, this had become critical; without her to protect their younger, he had to keep his eyes on the boys at all times, but that just wasn't possible with the amount of responsibilities he had. There was something unfeasible happening—something that Old Deuteronomy had deemed to be impossible long ago. The idea that he could feel nothing but contempt for his own son.

Whatever Macavity felt for his father in return was a mystery. He knew that Old Deuteronomy was the only one he couldn't fool with his mask of sanity, and yet he enjoyed taunting him with it anyway. Macavity was on the cusp of adolescence and the little kitten was nearing toddlerhood. He was squeaking and mewing every few seconds for water, food, or just for attention. _Eek!_ "What is it?" Old Deuteronomy would let him walk across his chest, tapping his nose. _Myaaa!_ "Are you singing already?" _Mrooow!_ He was such a verbal cat from an early age. Macavity, even in his infant years, had been a quiet one. He couldn't play-talk with his first son like this when he was just starting to gain control of his motor functions. Old Deuteronomy noticed that he was a bit more fussy than Macavity had been, or perhaps he was only now noticing since his wife wasn't here to tend to him as often. He was _much_ more of a lap-baby than Macavity; if the opportunity was there, he was in his father's lap or on his back.

He hadn't been able to trust Macavity with him since the incident, but sometimes when the kitten was left unattended for just a few seconds, he would curiously waltz up to the ginger cat and Old Deuteronomy had to carry him away by the scruff of his neck. The kitten wasn't quite at the age where he could question his father's actions, but he was bothered by the idea that he was doing something wrong by interacting with the older tom, and he didn't want to see his Papa upset with him. Once it was clear that Macavity was nobody left for Macavity to fool in the Jellicle Tribe, the tomcat disappeared. This wasn't an exaggeration. His scent was gone, he didn't even leave a trail of where he might've run off too. Old Deuteronomy knew he should've been frightened about Macavity suddenly spiriting away... but he could only feel relief. His little one hadn't gotten attached to the dangerous beast, and he didn't even remember his existence by the time he was two years old.

The kitten in question was Munkustrap.

—

Munkustrap was four years old when Rum Tum Tugger was born. The Jellicles were no longer nestled in an old amusement park, but a junkyard in the West End. Neither brothers remembered their mothers, nor did they know that they came from two different queens. They were brothers – that's all they had to know. Tugger had been birthed by Old Deuteronomy's ninth and final wife. He hoped to reunite happily with all of them once it was his turn to return to the heaviside layer one last time. But right now, he had a family to raise and subjects to guide. He didn't act like Macavity never existed, but he knew what he had to tell his children, and that was the truth. Macavity was a dangerous cat, that had broken every human law. How he managed to escape the scene every time, he couldn't tell. All he wanted now was for _them_ to be safe.

His two kits and Munkustrap's new best friend, Alonzo, had trapped themselves up inside a box that was atop a bedstead. Old Deuteronomy thought he had to come to the rescue, but he could hear them giggling. It turns out that they'd made themselves a clubhouse. "Are any visitors allowed?" He called up. The kittens poked their heads out.

"No! No adults allowed!" Called Tugger.

" _Maaaybe_ if he says the password." Munkustrap snorted.

"And what's that?" The boys whispered to each other like they were debating on revealing such a top secret statement. So serious! Munkustrap called down to his father that he would whisper it to him if he promised not to tell. Old Deuteronomy swore on his nine lives. Munkustrap was ready to pop out and whisper into his ear, but Old Deuteronomy smelled something that turned his blood into ice. "Actually, wait up there for a moment, boys. I'll be back in a moment." They looked confused, but they resumed their play-time as he rushed over to the gates.

Outside there was a face he hadn't expected to see again. Indeed, a red-and-black coated cat with a scruffy, neglected mane and sunken eyes. He looked nothing like the kitten he once knew... in fact, he looked _more_ like it! He now fit the image of a fiend in feline shape. His whiskers were uncombed and his brow was deeply lined. He smiled, "Father." He said without a hint of warmth. Old Deuteronomy did _not_ want to play games. Not while he had _two_ boys to worry about.

"What are you doing here? How did you find us?"

"You think I don't remember my dear old cat's scent? Not to mention what the Jellicle Tribe looks like?"

"You left without a single word. Where have you been all this time?"

"Oh, traveling. You think a cat wants to be cooped up in one place all his life? Have you ever _seen_ Scotland's mountains? I have quite the view when I'm raiding a human home."

"What you did was desertion. And combined with every other crime you've committed, you're not welcome here."

He laughed. "Not welcome back in my _own_ tribe?" Old Deuteronomy didn't flinch. He meant it. Macavity wasn't even going to fake it to make it, not with him. He knew he'd be wasting both their time. "How's the little one?"

"Better. He doesn't even remember you."

"Shame. A little emotional trauma builds character, wouldn't you agree?"

"Enough of this. Macavity, I want you out of my sight."

Macavity looked at the cats who were starting to gather around in wonder. He looked back at his father. "Ever hear of second chances?"

"I gave you _innumerable_ chances, even with my doubts and second thoughts. But now I have far too many." He stopped and tried to recognize him as one of his own children, "Macavity, I'm willing to have a relationship with you if that's what you want, but I'm not going to put the tribe in danger over it. I'll need you to maintain at last _a certain_ distance from—"

"I don't need your reasoning. I'll make my way elsewhere then... but don't be surprised to find me around here again someday." He knew he'd gotten under his skin, and before turning to leave, he looked back once more time, "The little one is cute – a Maine Coon? My, he's gonna be a big one." Old Deuteronomy hissed to silence him. The very idea that he would threaten his children brought out his most violent instincts. "Relax! Your boys are safe... for now." And he turned away without another word.

That was the last time Old Deuteronomy saw him before the most recent Jellicle Ball.


	20. Misery

**Munkustrap**

The cats heard the crash of distant thunder, and more so the falling tears of the sobbing sky. Munkustrap couldn't believe any of what he'd just heard – that he shared bloodwith the very cat that had tried to slaughter him that night. Not to mention that he and Tugger _didn't_ have the same mother like both brothers had grown up believing. The Maine Coon was at a loss and looked like he didn't know what to think. But those words had all come from a lying tongue. In desperation, Munkustrap turned to his father with pleading eyes.

"Dad, tell me it's not true." The thunder went on; _Boom!_ "Tell me he's lying." He begged, but Old Deuteronomy couldn't bear to hide it from his boy anymore. He gave him a look that told him all he had to know. Munkustrap felt his knees crumple; he sank to the ground, drenched with rainfall. It made him sick to think he shared any blood with... with _him!_ Tugger was chilled to the core, but couldn't emote even if he wanted to. There were no expressions to show what he was feeling.

"It would've been simple had you known from the beginning." Macavity confessed; his face had swollen up and the blood from his face had fallen into his mouth; the crimson against the ivory white of his fangs looked menacing. "It's not _you_ who's to be in charge, it is I... Can't you see that it was never _your_ place to begin with?" Munkustrap raised his head, but he could only see a foggy outline through the murky rain. "You've never been fit a moment of your life to protect the Jellicles!"

"That isn't true." Demeter stepped forward. "He's done far, _far_ more for his people than you have a day in your life!" She took another step closer to show him she was unafraid. " _You're_ the threat he's trying to protect his people from!"

"How unfortunate." He snapped back. "All this time, I'd wanted _you_ to be the one to bear proper heirs for my tribe."

"It'll _never_ be your tribe." Munkustrap pulled himself back up—the shock of the revelation had ceased at once, and he was ready to do what Macavity had been trying all along: bargain. "You want to make an offer, then here it is!"

 _Boom! Boom!_

Macavity peered at him in mistrust, and then he grabbed a pawful of Old Deuteronomy's fur and held his claws against his chest. Munkustrap nearly ran forward, but Macavity pressed his claws deeper into their father's skin. "Do you take me for a fool after all of this?" Tugger had nearly gotten to his feet, but his leg still pained him. Besides, both brothers knew what would happen if they approached.

"I take you for a reasonable tom... _please_. Take _me_ as a hostage." Demeter and Tugger's hearts sank, but Munkustrap had meant it. "You can keep me and make me do whatever you want... but leave my family and my tribe alone!" His ears were ringing and his soaked fur hugged his body.

"No!" Demeter cried. "Munkustrap, you can't do this!" She spoke as if she herself was a Jellicle... perhaps she _was_. All it had taken was the love of another to make her into one. She loved the tribe only because _he_ did, and to have something to love and protect was a powerful driving force indeed.

Tugger spoke in a faint whisper that wasn't heard by anyone else, _"Don't..."_

"I mean it!" He looked at Demeter, Tugger, Mistoffelees, and his father. "Go on! Go back home and take care of the others. Please, _please!"_ His eyes reddened and filled with thick, salty tears. Macavity was hardly moved. _"Let him go!"_

"And what makes you think I'd let them do that?" Macavity snorted. The ceaseless pounding of the rain was maddening. " _Hmph._ I see. Neither of us will lead, but that's not part of my plan... you see, since I was a kitten, I've always had a vision of myself leading the tribe, and it is my right to do so."

Old Deuteronomy peacefully looked at Tugger and Munkustrap, and the words quietly formed on his lips, _"My boys."_ Macavity tugged hard on Old Deuteronomy's fur and sawed his neck open. Blood ran down his claws and Munkustrap was left writhing; he was thankful his tears had blinded him—it spared him from watching his father bleed to death as he was dropped to the ground. He wailed loudly into the night until his lungs went empty and his throat was rent raw, while Tugger's face buckled in silent agony. Mistoffelees had retracted his hold from the large cat and shut his eyes. He couldn't bear to look.

Macavity snickered lightly as Munkustrap's voice died out and he was left able to do nothing but look hopelessly at his father's corpse in a dreary daze. Had all of this been just to lead up to this moment? Had there been any purpose in coming to his rescue? If he hadn't offered himself, would his father had lived? He didn't know, nor did he care. If Macavity came to end his life next, he wouldn't resist. There was no point in trying. None.

Before the ginger tom could make another move, Demeter flung herself over Munkustrap with a loud, "NO!"

"Out of the way, you heartless little harlot!"

"I won't move! You got what you wished for, haven't you done enough?" She shouted over her own tears; Munkustrap didn't acknowledge her heroic gesture, he was lost, flat on the ground. Tugger had crawled over to his father's body and picked up his head; he was already gone. "If you want to kill him, then you'll have to kill me first! You said you needed a mate, _didn't you?"_ She dared him to kill the queen he'd pursued for months and months, but the idea didn't seem to faze him. Tugger was still cradling his father with a blank stare. Mistoffelees realized it was now wise to act, and so he used the shadows around him to creep up to the murderer.

Macavity _did_ look like he'd began to consider it, but the idea quickly passed. "I'll find another." He said. Before he could leave a mark on her, Mistoffelees stood up behind him and repaid the favor of striking him when he wasn't ready, except he'd used a wooden plank. Demeter scratched his arm and then attempted to hoist Munkustrap from the ground; his eyes were dull. She knew he was hurting, but he needed to fight! Instead, while Macavity was down, Munkustrap could only kneel at his father's body just as Tugger was putting his head back on the ground. He had Old Deuteronomy's blood on his paw.

Slowly, he rose to his feet; he was wobbly from the torn muscle, but he forced himself upright despite his shaky limbs. As demeaning as it was, he limped his way to the demonic cat. Tugger glared at him. He bore the very eyes Macavity recognized; ones of hate, neglect, and rage. He'd been right all along; his anger was not for Macavity, but for the world. The world that had so cruelly forced him to watch his brother struggle and let his father die the unpeaceful death he hadn't deserved. How could he have known that this was what he was being driven to all his life?

 ** _Boom!_**

"Why are _you_ still here? Still think that you're important?" Macavity said. His looming words went clean through Tugger's memory again. His ebony pupils slowly grew until his green irises were barely visible.

They were _nothing_ alike.

Swiftly and calmly, Rum Tum Tugger deployed his claws and thrusted them across Macavity's throat; it tore open and blood sprayed to the ground from his neck... at last, the cat fell and ceased to move. His rats that had been waiting for some sort of signal to help all gathered around the body and began feasting. They'd long hoped for this moment. It seemed like such an easy thing to do, but when he was the sole cat that had the very knowledge of where their father was, and when his brother never wished to resort to murder as his method of action, you try coming to the conclusion that he must die at your hands.

Tugger returned to Munkustrap. Their eyes met and they tenderly looked upon their father. Demeter took Mistoffelees and they gave the two the privacy to grieve.

—

Placing logs around Old Deuteronomy, the pyre was nearly ready. The tribe was gathered around the center where the funeral was held, all with their ears and tails low. This would be his final journey to the heaviside layer. Munkustrap and Rum Tum Tugger were in the center of it all; as if it wasn't painful enough to carry his lifeless corpse back, now they had to see him burn.

It was all right, though. He'd always asked to be burned at his final funeral. The smoke would help his spirit ascend.

 _Old Deuteronomy's lived a long time_  
 _He's a cat who has lived many lives in succession_  
 _He was famous in Proverb and famous in rhyme_  
 _A long while before Queen Victoria's accession_  
 _Old Deuteronomy's buried nine wives_  
 _And more I am tempted to say ninety-nine_  
 _And his numerous progeny prospers and thrives_  
 _And the village is proud of him in his decline_  
 _At the sight of that placid and bland physiognomy_  
 _When he sits in the sun on the vicarage wall_  
 _The oldest inhabitant croaks_

Mr. Mistoffelees was given the honor of lighting the flame; he was the only one who had the ability to do so! He wanted to take pride in it, but he had nothing to enjoy about seeing his new friends mourn as he set their father ablaze. It was a request by Old Deuteronomy, they'd assured him. He would've wanted him in the tribe, they knew this. Mistoffelees could now call the junkyard his home. The kittens were crying the loudest as the flames grew and grew around their old leader.

It was the brothers whose sobs were the most silent. Enclosed in his brother's arms, Munkustrap wept heavily and freely, while the only indication that Tugger was feeling _anything_ were the tears quietly creeping down his face as he watched the smoke rise up to the heavens. His eyes were glassy and red. If it were just him, he wouldn't even be there letting anyone see him this way, but Munkustrap needed him, and that was enough to let him swallow his pride. His throat felt swollen and his stomach felt empty—like there was a bottomless hole in it. Both brothers felt like they were standing _beside_ themselves as they watched it happen and let the Jellicles grieve. They were watching themselves take in the funeral, receive comfort from others, watch the evening become night.

Finally, alone in the darkness with nothing left but cinder and ash, the brothers were able to sing their own parting song to their precious father.

 _Memory, turn your face to the moonlight_  
 _Let your memory lead you_  
 _Open up, Enter in_  
 _If you find there the meaning of what happiness is_  
 _Then a new life will begin_

 _Memory, all alone in the moonlight_  
 _I can smile at the old days_  
 _Life was easier then_  
 _I remember the time I knew what happiness was_  
 _Let the memory live again_

 _Burnt out ends of smoky days_  
 _The stale cold smell of morning_  
 _The streetlight dies, another night is over_  
 _Another day is dawning_

 _Daylight, we would wait for the sunrise_  
 _We would dream of a new life_  
 _And we wouldn't give in_  
 _When the dawn comes, tonight will be a memory too_  
 _And a new day will begin_

 _Sunlight through the trees in summer  
Our dreams were grand and filled with wonder_  
 _But now it's endless masquerading_  
 _Like a flower as the dawn is breaking_  
 _The memories are fading_

 _Tell me, was it easy to leave me_  
 _All alone with the memory_  
 _Of our days in the sun?_  
 _When you're gone, how could I understand what happiness is?_

It was in fact Tugger who gripped Munkustrap's paw as they remembered their kittenhood through their shared tears.

 _Look..._

He sniffled.

 _A new day has begun..._

They embraced each other, both with tears streaming down their cheeks.


	21. Heartache

**Demeter**

Not for the first time, Munkustrap woke to find himself in a tight embrace with Demeter. He was shaking and his fur was bristled. _"Shhhh."_ She rocked him gently, "It's all right! Everything's all right!" The tom's cries had been so miserable that Demeter had no choice but no pull him out of it. At least it was only her; he'd be ashamed to find if any of his subjects had seen him twitching and gasping in his sleep. He'd willingly left the junkyard to spend the night elsewhere; it still evoked too many memories of his father and he was haunted by him and Macavity as it was.

Demeter had been told by Munkustrap that he didn't want her to see him while he was so distraught; it would only bring him more turmoil to see her worried. But that's why she has to be there for him on his most restless nights where not even being _home_ brought any solace.

Munkustrap gulped the air. "I could hear my dad... I couldn't—" His voice broke and Demeter shushed into his fur. "I couldn't find him."

"It's just a nightmare." She planted a soft kiss on his forehead and then on his lips. She lowered his head and rested his ear over her heart. "Try to sleep."

"I don't want to have the dream again. _Please."_ He begged as if she had control over his subconscious. The most she could do was cradle him until he was back asleep, if that even happened. His voice was tormented. "I couldn't save him. _I could've saved him."_

"Shh. Sleep... Sleep. It's over now." And Demeter would know—it had been the third night in a row he'd woken up like this, the third night she'd spent next to him. Mercifully, they only came once a night. She caressed his face to quiet him. "I'm here." Demeter knew the tribe would be wondering where he was; the Jellicles were all having time to mourn, and so they were left with no one in charge or any sort of order to go by, Munkustrap included. Her heart hurt for him—in fact, she'd actually felt physical pain from watching the struggle. Not just in Munkustrap, but for his beloved subjects... Old Deuteronomy had been adored by all the Jellicles, and his passing was reminiscent of losing a precious grandfather. For Demeter, it compared to something happening to one of her humans.

But she knew that her humans were living safely somewhere; Old Deuteronomy's own sons had to watch him die. Not even the Jellicles could bemoan how their sorrow was equal to that of Munkustrap's or Rum Tum Tugger's. He didn't get to live a full final life.

It started to drizzle within a few moments, but the cats were nestled underneath an awning, safe from the rain. Demeter began to remember the girl—how she used to jump into her lap whenever she was sitting in her bean bag chair, how she waited on her bed every day until she came home from class, and how she'd hop down as soon as her scent came back to life and run to greet her. The purrs she let out into her hand when she nuzzled her and climbed into her arms so she could lie over her chest. She was her sidekick. Whenever they got a new package, Demeter would climb into the box to sniff around and ensure no rats had smuggled themselves aboard, and the humans would laugh and say it was her new bed. Her only sleeping spot was next to the girl; sometimes under she sheets with her if she was so inclined to 'tuck her in.' But it was always next to her pillow near her head. She'd purr right into her ear to help her rest easy. Humans seemed to enjoy it when cats purred, though it was such a common and natural thing among them that their own kind didn't even notice.

Other things came to mind as the rain started to pick up; the scent of the woman's perfume, the father's morning newspaper delivery, the smell of their morning tea and sounds of the 'news' on the 'telly' everyday. Yes, she would miss it, but now her purpose in caring for others had led her elsewhere. Maybe everything in her life was meant to drive her towards the tribe. Maybe that's why she just couldn't leave them alone.

 _Sing, sweet nightingale  
_ _Sing, sweet nightingale  
_ _High above me..._

Her wistful voice combined with the gentle rhythm of her heartbeat lulled Munkustrap back to sleep. Whether it would be a pleasant one, she did not know, but she would be at his side either way. She pressed her lips into his head and nuzzled him softly. If ensuring him a peaceful slumber meant having to watch over him, then Demeter was determined to stay awake forever. She loved him, and losing rest was a small sacrifice in aiding him through his trial. Munkustrap had sought her out not long after the funeral. He knew she was nearby and needed her warmth. He breathed lightly as his chest moved evenly up and down; his grip around her loosened and his eyes darted back and forth behind closed lids – off in a distant dream once more. Demeter didn't let him go. She whispered something into his ear, something that would assuredly bless him with better thoughts while he slept.

* * *

 **Rum Tum Tugger**

 _"We have a lot more in common than you could possibly believe."_

Tugger rushed down the corridor far below ground. Beckoning him was a familiar presence.

 _"We have a lot more in common than you could possibly believe."_

He saw his father far up in the heaviside layer, where happier times awaited him, and he was bidding the cats farewell before his spirit would disappear forever. But behind him was another cat, and day quickly turned to night as the Jellicles cowered beneath them.

 _"...A lot more in common than you could possibly believe."_

Macavity's sharp fangs were still protruding from his curved lips; his neck was bleeding from where Tugger's razor-sharp claws had ripped it open. The cut had been so deep that it exposed his jugular vein. He put a calm paw around Old Deuteronomy's shoulder. They drifted farther away.

 _"...A lot more in common than you could possibly believe."_

Tugger tried to scream for his father to turn around, but the latter was in a dissonant serenity. Old Deuteronomy didn't flinch at Macavity's touch; if anything, it mocked the young tom. Macavity's spirit was now free to do whatever he pleased with him. Tugger continued trying to yell, but to no avail. "I told you, didn't I?" Macavity said, _"Your father never noticed you, and your brother doesn't need you."_ He continued as the blood overflowed in his mouth, drained from his throat, and went streaming down his neck. They were so far away now that Tugger almost lost sight of them and was left alone in darkness. He could only give chase.

 _"...Your father never noticed you... Your brother doesn't need you."_

But from the shadows, Old Deuteronomy returned to him, and Tugger felt an iota of gratitude that he'd sacrificed one final moment before ascending to tell him goodbye, but then a hole pierced through his chest and the blood from the puncture painted his thick fur crimson. "My boy," he said without a hint of pain, "I'm sorry it turned out like this. But it'll be over soon." And immediately after, as he reached his paw out to his little son, he disintegrated into nothing but cinders like in the funeral pyre, and Tugger could do nothing but fall to bereaving pieces before the pile of ash that was once someone he loved and cherished.

 _"...Father never noticed you... Brother doesn't need you."_

Caressing his neck with a silver claw and lifting him by the chin was Macavity, still with the bloody tear in his throat. And in the reflection of his snake-like eyes, Tugger did not see himself, but instead the demon cat in his place.

Finally, Tugger's own eyes opened.

"No–! No!" He gasped for breath. He looked around with fearful eyes and a racing heart. It was nearly as dark as it had been in his dream, but he had the comfort of the streetlamps along the sidewalk and the sounds of late-night commutes passing by in their cars. He was back on the fire escape somewhere behind an apartment complex. He was alone, and he couldn't be more thankful for it. He'd been alone for a week now; he didn't care if anyone back at home was looking for him or not—no one would be needing him any time soon. For a _very_ brief moment did Tugger think that his father would be standing over him wondering where he'd been, a familiar occasion that could never be again.

The nightmare left him unusually tense—it was rare that they were this vivid, and he normally got over them rather quickly. He placed a paw over his neck to try and rid the feeling of Macavity's icy touch. He adjusted his collar and got up to find water. He still had a slight limp; it'd probably be gone by now if he'd just sit down and let it heal instead of skulking around trying to find something to do. This wasn't pain. Recieving near-fatal gashes all over his body and three broken ribs from enraged toms was pain. If he managed to survive _that_ – along with the debilitating fever that accompanied it – then this was nothing.

He washed his face in a puddle and checked his rippled reflection. He was still Rum Tum Tugger. His eyes were red from exhaustion and his mane was tousled from struggling in his sleep, but at least he recognized himself. As much as one would think that Rum Tum Tugger loved to admire his own image, it was actually a rare occasion that he ever stared himself down unless he was inspecting something in his fur or teeth. He knew what he looked like once he was done preening himself, so no need to constantly check. But on the instances he _did_ happen to catch himself in a reflective surface or in a rain puddle, once in a blue moon, he would sometimes be at an angle that reminded him _just how much_ he looked like his brother or father... and sometimes it would scare him half-to-death.

He'd react as if he'd seen a ghost walking by. Nowadays, maybe he _did._

His right ear involuntarily leaned over and Tugger could already guess whom it was; he'd only caught his scent about fifteen times since he'd left the junkyard. "I know you're there, buddy." He said without turning around. Mr. Mistoffelees appeared from his hiding spot and sauntered out with a bashful demeanor. "What's the deal? You've been stalking me for three days now."

"I was worried," he confessed, "you left without saying a word to anybody."

"I do that all the time."

"I mean, no one's seen you around town since..." He swallowed thickly once he realized he probably shouldn't mention the last time he was home... as if Tugger didn't know. "I thought I should go looking."

"Kid, I'm a grown adult. I can handle my own issues. Worry about yourself." His tone sounded a bit cruel, but he'd honestly meant it as a suggestion and not a command. It was the tiredness speaking. Mistoffelees was far from persuaded.

"Even adults need some assistance." He rationalized quite clearly. Tugger sighed. "Aren't we part of the same tribe now? Doesn't that mean we're supposed to look out for each other?"

As he spoke, Tugger did his usual unconscious habit of resting his thumbs under his belt. "I don't know. Go ask my brother; he's the one who's about to be in charge."

Mistoffelees glowered and furrowed an annoyed brow. He rushed in front of the Maine Coon before he could proceed, "You're not you." He stated, and Tugger responded with an expression that was both baffled and irritated.

 _"Pardon?"_ He chided.

"We both saw what happened and we both know it did something to the Rum Tum Tugger everyone knows... it did something to the old Munkustrap too. So don't pretend like you're all alone in this!" He raised his voice louder than anyone had ever talked to Tugger before, not counting his brother and father. He spoke to him as if they were brothers themselves. And it was because of one reason: he cared.

But Tugger wasn't seeing that; all he saw was a teenager being recalcitrant and pestering. He wasn't about to go all soft and have a long spiel about his emotions like his brother would. He tugged on his vest and swaggered past him in a huff. What would they accomplish talking about it anyway? He was fine now that he was awake and able to find something else to keep himself occupied.

Mistoffelees wasn't having any of that. _"I'm talking to you!"_ He hollered down the alleyway. It was startling enough to even catch the large tom off guard. "I've been through a lot too. You're the only cat in _the world_ to know that. That's how good I am at not telling anybody. If that's what you're worried about, then I guarantee you, anything you say is between _us."_

Honestly, what was his deal? Teenagers just loved to know all the drama. And Tugger would know – he'd been one already. Yet he also knew that the kit was looking out for him in his own way; everything he'd done for him while they were practically strangers was enough to convince him that he wasn't that kind of bloke. He wouldn't exploit him or want to humiliate him to a bunch of cats he didn't even know—what's to gain from that?

It was the Maine Coon himself. He wasn't used to people being so eager to reach out to him and then want to hear his own troubles... because nobody thought he had any. How could someone so charming and had all the girls fawning over him have any issues? Besides, it's not like the cats didn't _know_ what his present ordeal was. He shouldn't _have_ to explain it unless Mistoffelees was actually that daft, and he already knew that this brainy kitten was far from it.

Rum Tum Tugger had no desire to spell it out for him, so he went on walking. Mistoffelees made no chase after him this time.


	22. Memory

**Munkustrap**

Munkustrap drank from the water running out of the gutter. He rinsed his face in the flowing stream and shook his fur out. Demeter pressed up against his side and he purred; they nuzzled each other's faces and necks. "Are you feeling okay?" She asked.

"I'm all right." His arctic-blue eyes were still red-rimmed from lack of rest; his fur was unkempt and his complexion was pallid. Right now, he didn't care about his looks or health, his mind was focused on other matters. "I need to go look for Tugger."

"By yourself?"

"There's no way he'll talk to me if you're there with me. It's hard enough for him as it is."

"Do you have any idea where he'd go?"

"No, but he can't be far." He looked at his reflection; far from fit to be seen by the tribe, but fit to be seen by his brother. That's all that mattered. "It looks like it might rain, so he'd probably hiding under a truck somewhere."

"What if I see someone from the tribe looking for you?"

"Tell them that I'm fine and that I've gone to see my brother. We'll both be back soon." His tone was hopeful, but he was colored with anxiety. Demeter saw this. Munkustrap tried to reassure her with a kiss on her forehead. He leaned his head against hers. "I never told you 'thank you.'" He said. She reacted with a perplexed expression.

"For what?"

Munkustrap was equally bewildered. "For not letting me go through this alone." Upon delivering his words, he realized that he could not let his own brother struggle by himself any longer. The tribe wouldn't be without them for much longer—it had already been _long enough_. Parting ways, only briefly, Munkustrap recalled Demeter's words from the night before as she soothed him to sleep, unaware that they hadn't been her own: _You've a kind heart. Don't let him take it from you._

He didn't know how far he'd have to travel before he caught Tugger's scent, but he was determined either way. He'd had enough of this part of town and he was ready to at least _try_ to find some solace in being back home. It was strange how quickly Munkustrap could remember which sidewalk they'd crossed in their search for Old Deuteronomy, every shop they'd passed, what fountains and storm drains they stopped at for a drink. Tugger must pass them so many times a day, he's gone so often. He rubbed his eyes that were dusty from the busy streets; he kept sniffling because of the musty air. He swished his face into a small puddle right before he caught it and pricked upright; a weary Maine Coon's aroma.

It was from atop the building he stood under. He hopped onto the steps and hopped from AC units to window panes to reach the roof. He was much slower than Tugger was, but that's because he had little to no practice in these exercises. When he reached the top, there he was. A breeze trailed through his already wind-blown mane and rustled Munkustrap's fur. He knew Tugger had to have caught his scent, but he just wasn't acknowledging him. What was he looking at, he wondered, the busy street, the morning sky? Or perhaps nothing at all and was just thinking quietly. Tugger was leaning over the railing with glazed eyes when Munkustrap sat down beside him. It was impossible for him not to know he was there, but the Maine Coon didn't so much as glance at him.

"Morning..." Munkustrap said flatly.

"Mhm." He grumbled in his throat. That was his greeting for now.

Munkustrap nervously licked his lips and looked at the dark clouds in the distance. "It looks like it's gonna be a stormy season." Tugger had nothing to add. Fuck it. He wouldn't waste time dancing around it. "Look, Tugger, if you ever need to talk or... just someone to be with, you know I'm always gonna be there." He wasn't moved—well, at the very least, he didn't _indicate_ it. Munkustrap took a deep breath. Stay calm. They'd already done their crying, yet his eyes were once again reddening and watering. The Mau had always been a soft heart; he couldn't help it. "... _I_ really need you right now." He said with pain in his throat. Tugger's eyes turned to his brother without a single movement of his body. Munkustrap's lip quivered and he took a breath to abate his sob. "I don't know what I'm gonna do without Dad. I already miss him." A deep breath. " _God_ knows I'm not ready to take his place... I couldn't even keep him safe from Macavity, how am I supposed to protect an entire tribe of people I care about?" His voice broke and his tears fell calmly onto the brick. He tried his best not to let Tugger see his suffering face.

Though it was very well-concealed, Munkustrap's sorrow had been agonizing for Tugger, for this was his brother! The only person left in his world that he could call family. Not even at what he believed to be their father's stifling rejection in his adolescence had made him tremble like this. His chest burned. Why couldn't Munkustrap tell that he was heartbroken too? Why must he _say_ it so that he understood? Munkustrap's wounded gaze was enough to set him on fire.

"You're all I have left now, brother." He said with a weary voice. The fact that he spoke at all was enough to shock Munkustrap. "If I'd lost our father _and_ you in one day... I don't think I could've handled it." This was difficult for Tugger—he wasn't even looking Munkustrap's way as he spoke. His voice was dry and raw. "You just never think there's gonna be a day where we don't have our father..." he took a moment and sighed, dampening his emotions. "...but that's not how it works."

Munkustrap nodded with a pained grimace. "Do you— Do you think that there's any other way it could've gone?" He licked the busted skin on his lip; he'd gained a habit of doing so since it began to heal; he was only hindering its process. "Maybe... maybe if we'd just ran or, or if I'd just grown a spine and killed Macavity right there then... then our father would be all right." Tugger shrugged his shoulders as to say he had no idea. Neither would ever know. No point in dwelling on something that didn't happen. "I'm just so _scared._ " As if that statement had cast a cryptic spell, Tugger finally turned his head to look at his poor brother. "There's so many people who depend on me and I don't know how I'm gonna take care of them I couldn't—" his last ounce of reserve crumbled and tears started pouring, "I couldn't even save our father!"

The urgency of his voice struck him and Tugger did the hardest thing he could ever have to do: he willfully put his arms around his brother and held him; it was his first time in a _long_ time initiating a hug between them. He didn't cry, but he shivered. "Dad loved you." He whispered, fighting to maintain his composure. "All I'd ever hear him talk about was how proud you made him. He said you'd make a great leader."

The Mau jarringly pulled away from his brother and wiped his eyes. He could see Tugger was about ready to break himself. All this time he'd selfishly sought out the Maine Coon in order to hear his reassurance... but how dare he not offer any in return? He had so many things he could start with that Tugger didn't know about, things he wouldn't even believe no matter _whom_ they came from. "You have no idea how much he loved you. You were his leopard." Tugger already knew this, and so he couldn't even pretend to look touched in the slightest. Munkustrap had hardly begun, "Even when he was calling you hard-headed, or defiant or whatever, he still knew that you'd be there for him if he needed you. He never doubted you for a second." Rum Tum Tugger knew that was a lie, but he said nothing; this was already a poignant attempt to ease his feelings as it was. Still, it only made his father all the more admirable to know he still loved him even with his doubts—the same could never have been said about Macavity.

"Back at the ball, before it all happened, he was telling me something about the day I was born. He said that when I came out, I wasn't breathing right and that my heart was beating really slowly." Munkustrap had been too young to remember, or maybe Old Deuteronomy hid it from him at the time to not worry the kitten. "He said that the other adults didn't think I'd make it, that I was too sick to live a long life. But you know what Pop said to me? He said that every day, I'd just keep fighting. I was fighting to live, and I kept breathing until I got better." Tugger ducked his head to the side; he felt a tear coming. Munkustrap made no effort to hide his own. Turning back and breathing in, he proceeded. "He told me that the moment I was born, I was his fighter." Munkustrap could hear his father saying this as though he were standing beside the two. "You know that..." Tugger's eyes were glassy, but his demeanor, calm. "...You know that we've been a team since the day I was born, right?" Munkustrap looked up at him with honest, glossy eyes. Indeed, he knew this. They were always a team, and would be until the end of their nine lives.

Munkustrap folded his arms around him again, both ready to cry but also not feeling the need to at once. Morose and jovial. Anguished and peaceful. A strange, subtle, but tolerable emotion. The worst of it was subdued by the presence of someone he loved... and as long as he was surrounded by those he loved, the feeling would go away entirely, he was sure. "I love you, Tiger." Tugger didn't answer back—he didn't need to. Munkustrap knew how his brother felt about him.

* * *

 **Mr. Mistoffelees**

The storm clouds dissipated and it turned out to be a sunny day instead. The tribe rejoiced when they saw the two toms finally return to the junkyard; they all rushed to their sides and held their paws to them; Mistoffelees stayed to the side and waited to greet them privately. The crowd was still taking some getting used to. As of now, he was becoming well-acquainted with the kittens. They all found his magic tricks intriguing, even though they were simple card games and pulling blankets out of a top hat. Mistoffelees was grateful just to be able to have someone to spend time with. A F-A-M-I-L-Y.

There were no H-U-M-A-N-S here, and that meant that this spot was safe to roam and be who he was.

He was grateful to be able to stand near Victoria. The all-white kitten with her tiny, pink nose and bright blue eyes. She moved so elegantly and exuded far more maturity than the other kits. She was like Mistoffelees and preferred her alone time to stretch and dance, while he worked on his magic not very far away; just enough distance to get to watch her. She had noticed the young tom, but had yet to approach him. Mistoffelees was eager to get to know her better someday, but that would have to wait. Right now, he wanted to ensure the wellness of his two new brothers, at least that's what he would like to now call them.

When they got closer, Mistoffelees hurried to Munkustrap and brushed against his side in a kind nuzzle. He hugged up against Tugger's chest to show that he was happy to see them home. His favorite tom in the world ruffled his head and said he was glad to see him too, though he'd sounded a bit flat. Mistoffelees didn't expect everything to be all right with them right away, so just to have _any_ sort of reaction of the like was a good sign. He knew that the Maine Coon really _was_ pleased to be home. The female kittens, plus some queens, pushed Mistoffelees aside and crowded around the strapping tom, but he waved them off to give him some space. A few days without Rum Tum Tugger around felt like an eternity! Etcetera was still latched onto his tail as he said, "I hope none of you were too distressed with me gone."

 _"Ohh baby!"_ Etcetera gripped on tighter and Tugger flipped his tail to shake her off. Jemima was pawing on his leg. He gave Mistoffelees a slight wink and the kit had no idea what to expect.

"I hate to turn you all away, but I'll need to be tending to some business with my brother... but I do believe Mister Mistoffelees, the Original Conjuring Cat, would be more than happy to keep you all company. I've never met a cat as clever as he." They all crawled around Tugger and eyed Mistoffelees; indeed, they knew of his little tricks and games, but they had yet to see what he could _really_ do! Mistoffelees hesitated now that all eyes were on him. They were expecting something _far_ more upscale than what he'd put on display. He looked nervously at Tugger, but he nodded his head assuringly. Mistoffelees looked down at his paws; he could do this! He'd done this in his sleep, even, though it hadn't been on purpose...

 _"Presto!"_ He shot a bolt of lightning across the green and caused a short in the telephone pole; the kits marveled at the blue sparks traveling across the wires and bouncing off each and every circuit. With a smile of newfound confidence, he blasted another to his left, to his right, the cats watching all watched in amazement and Tugger was able to get them cheering for the kitten in no time.

He did not need the same assets as Rum Tum Tugger to impress and inspire the others; he was already the magical, mystical Mr. Mistoffelees. No more was he the stray kitten living in a box alone with his memories of being locked in a C-A-G-E. And thanks to his new F-A-M-I-L-Y, he would never forget it.

* * *

 **Demeter**

Demeter had been waiting for any hint that the brothers had returned home and when she could hear the joyous uproar of the Jellicles from afar, she knew that _something_ good must be happening. She looked around; the black-and-white kitten danced in quick, graceful spins and spouted magical tricks for the audience, Tugger had two queens in each arm as he inspirited his small partner-in-crime, but where was—?

"Demeter." Startled, she turned around and saw that Munkustrap had slid onto the pile of rubble she was hidden behind. He looked happier than before, and it made _her_ happy.

"It looks like things are looking up today." He crawled over next to her and they watched the little magic show; Mistoffelees was picking a volunteer to do a disappearing act. "Do you think your father would've loved to see this?" She asked not to make him sad, but to see him think of him and smile. He did.

"Every moment of it." Demeter rested her head on his neck; they purred, he nuzzled the top of her head. Their hearts were moved, and Munkustrap saw that the timing was now right. "Come live with me." He proposed.

Demeter looked surprised. "What?"

"Come live with me in the tribe... they'll love you. You'll love _them_. _"_ He couldn't believe that Demeter wasn't expecting such a question. Was she not tired of being alone and wishing for greater things from afar? It could now all change if she was willing. Her heart was here, and it had been calling her for her entire life. Somehow, she knew it all along but could not believe that the answer was now right in front of her.

 _New and a bit alarming_  
 _Who'd have ever thought that this could be?_  
 _True, that he's no Prince Charming_  
 _But there's something in him that I simply didn't see_

Only, she did see it! From the very beginning did her instincts tell her that something felt right about him and his kind. That the Jellicles had been waiting for her, and she had long-needed them far more than they did her. "Will we be a family?" She asked just so she could hear Munkustrap say it himself. He took her paw and escorted her to the gates for the very first time; it was like stepping into her own castle. Instead of excitement, Demeter pulled away and looked with fright. What if this _wasn't_ her place and things went horribly wrong again? What if the others did not trust her because of her time with Macavity, the one who took their leader?

Munkustrap was far from worried, but not even his kind gest could convince her to take another step. He waited for her to grasp his paw again, but she did not. The magic show came to an abrupt halt; it was Mistoffelees that recognized Demeter's scent first and turned to see her. Munkustrap was still awaiting her touch. The cats all turned in wonder, confusion, suspicion at this enigmatic calico. None of them knew her face!

...But Jemima's eyes went wide and recognized her instantly. She giddily crawled over and Munkustrap stepped aside to let the kitten meet her angel up close. She'd known she was real! And now she was here to stay! Her eyes were bright and innocent like Demeter's own had been in her young days; did her presence _really_ mean that much to her? She looked too starstruck to do anything else. Demeter was the one to gently extend her arm out and let the kitten touch her paw; it felt like magic—to be touched by something that loved her long before knowing her. Victoria came up to her second, then Electra. They were pulling her further into their vicinity where she had no choice but to approach and be met by all the others. Even Tugger and Mistoffelees, who already knew her, gave her a respectful greeting.

Her heart was racing, she felt light, but like the Everlasting Cat had touched her and chosen for her to stay. So stay she would. Waiting for her on the other end of the crowd was Munkustrap. She could not help herself and she smiled the happiest she had in a long time. After all, did he not love her? And did she not love him? Of course. Hate had no meaning here. As a Jellicle, you embrace your enemies and let them bring out your deepest faults so that you may vanquish them. Your greatest fears will be met, and it will be difficult, but they will be conquered with time.

Finally, Demeter has arrived, and she is full. She is perfect. Munkustrap kisses her, she kisses him. They hold each other. No more darkness. No more ugliness. Perhaps some pain, perhaps some grief, but love always and eternally.

* * *

Had there not been a struggle, there would have been nothing gained. Munkustrap was patient, and patience would soon reward him with the memory of how to be happy and to heal. Everything was so beautiful; his home, his Demeter, seeing everyone smile, how much he loved his one and true brother. Sharing no mother meant nothing, Rum Tum Tugger was his only brother—for he did not and would never abandon him nor his people. Munkustrap's people were Tugger's people too, though he just wasn't as keen on showing it. Everything Tugger did was not just for Munkustrap alone, but for the tribe as well, and nothing pleased the tabby more.

With his kin, they spoke together, felt together, understood together. And he could tell you that they were happy forever... after all, hasn't this tale been told for many generations now? The Jellicles would be displeased if you had never heard it. We beg you, do not forget their turmoil, their anger, their grievances, nor their joy, their loyalty, and their courage.

Perhaps you've seen a Jellicle walking by? If you were to follow, you too would discover cats from all places, with all sorts of histories. And you too would have a story to tell.


End file.
